


Not Even Free

by IonFusion



Category: Naruto
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Anbu Shiranui Genma, Anbu Umino Iruka, Anbu Yamato | Tenzou, Angst, BAMF Umino Iruka, F/M, Gen, Hatake Kakashi Is A Brat, Hiruzen is also kind of a jerk, I won't get too graphic if I can help it, I'll add more tags as I think of them, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Iruka has a kekkei genkai, Iruka is a foreigner, Iruka is a freaking BAMF, Iruka is a girl, Iruka is the best parent ever, Iruka needs a hug, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Rape as Torture, Slow Build, Torture, Umino Iruka-centric, awful fight sequences, dealing with the dark side of an actual shinobi dictatorship, gratuitous use of Japanese words and phrases that I actually do a ton of research to get accurate, have I already said Kakashi is a jerk? yeah he's a jerk, like so slow, she hides it though, so much angst i swear, why can't I stop tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IonFusion/pseuds/IonFusion
Summary: Umino Iruka has lived her whole life dressing as and pretending to be one of the "guys". At the age of seven, her family moved to Konohagakure - but they were not just allowed entrance. No, there was a price to be paid, and Iruka was the one forced to pay it. Follow the beloved chunin as she simultaneously fights against and submits to the system, revealing secrets and gaining friends along the way. Just remember: not all is as it seems.
Relationships: Hagane Kotetsu & Kamizuki Izumo & Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Umino Iruka & Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 57
Kudos: 120





	1. Age 17 - A Flower for Iruka

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Spider's Web](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18241523) by [MissMar-vell (spyder_grrrl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyder_grrrl/pseuds/MissMar-vell). 
  * Inspired by [Ripples in an Ocean](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/545875) by Swiss Army Knife. 
  * Inspired by [Sharpening Iron](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/545899) by WhyMustIWrite. 



> This story is cross-posted on FFNet under the title Facade and my other username, ChthonicUnraveling. This fic is very heavily influenced by Swiss Army Knife and WhyMustIWrite over on FFNet, so please please please check them out; their writing is absolutely amazing. I will include more relevant warnings for each chapter at the beginning of each one. There will also be a language key since language-change happens every now and then. Also, please don't forget to catch the A/N at the end of every chapter; I tend to include notes on the chapters there that might clear some things up or add extra details to the story.
> 
> Updates every two weeks with a few exceptions.

Umino Iruka was quite comfortable with her lot in life. She was a chunin of Konohagakure who split her time between teaching at the Academy and working the Missions Room. Iruka was not pretty or even cute; she had square shoulders and curves you would only see if she emphasized them, and she was fit and toned. Her facial features were foreign, more befitting of those lands outside of Hi no Kuni’s borders, so her fellow Konohans could not tell from a glance her gender. In fact, the only people who knew that she was female were her previous genin team, Morino Ibiki, the Sandaime, Yamanaka Inoichi, her doctor, and now one blond little boy. Who was staring up at her earnestly with a slightly wilted and worse-for-wear flower gripped tightly in his small hands. 

“What’ve you got there, Naru-kun?” she asked the six year old kindly. It was an hour after she had let his class out for the day, and he had barged in with that poor plant while she was grading papers. 

“‘S fer _you_ , Ruka-sensei!” he replied and thrust the flower at her. 

She smiled in confusion but took it anyway and ruffled his hair. “What for, Naru-kun?” 

With all the innocence of his age he blurted sincerely, “‘Cause yer pretty, Ruka-sensei, an’ guys’re ‘pposed ta give pretty ladies flowers, dattebayo!” 

Iruka froze, brown eyes blinking in shock. _No one’s… guessed correctly,_ she thought. But there was Naruto gazing up at her with wide, honest blue eyes. Warmth suffused her body, and a gentle smile graced her features; she knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Thank you, Naruto,” she said softly. “That means a lot to me. What do you say we go get some ramen?” 

His eyes lit up, and he lunged forward and embraced her all the while squealing in excitement. 

She returned the hug, the warmth in her chest growing more potent. When they pulled back, she took the flower in one hand and his hand in the other, and together they made their way to Ichiraku’s. 

Iruka was glad she had stayed to grade. 


	2. Age 17 - First Yule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have left kudos, comments, and/or subscribed. In celebration of the seasonal holidays, I have whipped up this chapter - even if it's a little late - for you to enjoy :)
> 
> Also, I'll put this here: I'm working on some art for this fic, but if you guys have anything specific you want me to draw, or even if you have some fanart you would like me to display, then don't be afraid to pm me :) 
> 
> Warnings: None.
> 
> "Speech" - [Thoughts in italics]
> 
> Don't miss the Corner of Ramblings - ahem, End Note ;D - for notes.
> 
> Enjoy!

She was accosted as she made her way down the street. 

“Ruka-cchi!” A bigger body slammed into her back and would have dragged her to the ground if another body hadn’t been in front of her to catch her. 

With a grunt she elbowed her friend in his stomach, and with an ‘ooph’, Kotetsu slid off her back. 

Izumo chuckled as he helped her straighten. “Good to see you, Ruka.

Iruka glared up at both of them. “I _told_ you _not_ to call me that.”

Kotetsu sidled up to her with a smirk. “What, _Ruka-cchi_?”

Her glare intensified. “You,” she accused, “are _menaces_.” 

Both men grinned unrepentantly, and she sighed. “What do you want? I was just on my way to meet Mizuki to go over our lessons for next week.”

Kotetsu grimaced. “That’s right; I forgot our little Ruka-cchi was an Academy teacher, now.”

“Teacher’s _Assistant_ ,” she corrected, “for Mizuki. I won’t get my license until I finish the required courses.” They began walking back down the street. 

“And that will be when?” Izumo asked, and she shrugged. 

“Ah, two years? I may be a chunin now, but teachers are required to have mastered all the basics.” 

“So Mizuki-baka can still beat you in a fight, then?” Kotetsu may have been teasing, but Iruka knew that neither of her former genin teammates liked her oldest friend. She couldn’t see why; Mizuki had always been kind to her and stood up for her since they met in the orphanage after the Kyuubi attack. The silver-blue-haired chunin might have been four years older than her, but he had been a constant support since Iruka had been 10 and all alone in the world. 

She rolled her eyes. “If he didn’t, then there would be issues. We all know I’m probably the least skilled chunin in Konohagakure.” Iruka missed the look her friends shared. “There was the one time I caught him by surprise - because he didn’t realize I could actually use a ninjato, but to be fair, that's something new I’ve picked up.”

“According to Hayate-senpai,” Izumo hedged, “you’ve picked up on kenjutsu pretty impressively.” 

Iruka felt her cheeks warm. “He’s probably just being nice. I’m an awful klutz, and my otousan had some skill in kenjutsu, so any talent I have is just Tousan shining through.” 

If she had been looking behind her, the female chunin would have seen her friends - practically her brothers - silently facepalm.

“Anyway,” she continued obliviously, “that’s where I’m headed. You’re welcome to join us if you want.” 

Both cringed. “Maa, I think we’re good,” Kotetsu responded. 

She bit back a smirk as they peeled away - each with a teasing ruffle of her hair - and left to bother someone else. Two minutes later she was in front of Mizuki’s apartment. 

_Knock Knock Knock_

Mizuki smiled at her when he opened the door. “Iruka! I’m glad you made it.” 

Iruka returned the smile and stepped passed him, toeing off her sandals and leaving them neatly standing just inside the door. “How are you, Mizuki? We missed you in class today.”

The older (and taller, dangit) chunin shut the door behind her and led Iruka into the kitchen where he had some tea waiting on the table. “I’m fine. It was just a routine check-up from my last mission.”

“Oh, yeah - the one with the toxin, right?”

He nodded. “Ee. The medi-nin in charge of my case just wanted to make sure that there were no late-onset complications.”

Iruka hummed as she sipped her tea, relaxing almost immediately into her seat. “Ah, Mizuki, your tea is so good!” 

Mizuki laughed. “You’re so strange, Iruka.” 

Once they had finished their tea, they talked about their upcoming lessons, going over plans and predicting test results so they could try and head off the worst grades. Once that was over, they settled into companionable silence.

* * *

“Zumo and Tetsu weren’t happy about me coming over.” 

Mizuki glanced up at his friend sharply, quelling the accompanying anger. “Oh?” he responded casually. Iruka looked troubled, eyes trained on the dregs of her tea. 

“... I don’t understand it,” the brunette supplied at last, liquid brown eyes lifting to catch his for but a moment. “I’ve known you for seven years; you’ve been with me through my lowest points, and you’ve never left me - so why would my teammates, who are like brothers to me, distrust you?”

The anger receded, and Mizuki heaved an internal sigh. It was just so _hard_ to stay mad at Iruka for long; the younger man was just so naiive and innocent. “Who knows,” Mizuki smiled kindly. “What _does_ matter is that you form your own opinions and don’t allow yourself to be swayed by the opinions of others.” 

Iruka beamed a squint-eyed grin, warming the room around them. “Arigatou, Mizuki! You’re so wise!”

Mizuki smiled and shook his head fondly. _Iruka’s just so young,_ he thought as he watched the brunette bend over to play with the cat winding around their feet. _17… and already off regular active duty._ Iruka had come to him directly following the… _incident_ with his genin sensei two years ago. Mizuki had been the one to hold Iruka as he cried, to comfort him after the nightmares, to help him pick up his pieces - and the one who eventually went to Sandaime about making Iruka his Teacher’s Aide at the Academy. 

He had waited until Iruka had been a chunin for a year, of course, before doing so. Mizuki had held out hope that actually participating as an active shinobi of Konoha would help his friend overcome the lingering trauma, but Iruka was just so - so _different_ that no other option could be seen. So, shortly after Iruka’s 17th birthday (a birthday spent physically sick with night terrors), Mizuki requested a meeting with the Hokage.

Teaching in any official capacity at the Academy required the shinobi in question to be removed from the active-duty roster; technically they would then be added to the Reserves, but Academy teachers had their own list that told administration that the shinobi was on an ongoing assignment and could only be pulled away at the Hokage’s request. 

Iruka still went on missions every now and then, but it was infrequent, and Mizuki was fine with that. 

He just hoped that his friend would be more careful.

* * *

When Kotetsu’s birthday rolled around in July, Iruka was dragged from her apartment to one of the shinobi bars (Demon Cat, she thought it was, and had to snort at the blatant reference to the Daimyo’s wife’s cat, Tora). She knew within the first few minutes of arriving at the bar that it was going to be a _long_ night. 

“What do you _mean_ ‘He can’t come in’? Iruka’s a chunin for kami’s sake!” Kotetsu argued angrily. 

The bouncer - a tokujou Iruka had seen once or twice in the Missions Room - raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Iruka herself felt her face warm in embarrassment, and she ducked her head. 

In the tokujou’s defence, Iruka wasn’t in her uniform; Izumo and Kotetsu weren’t either because they never wore their uniforms to the bars when they celebrated birthdays. With her slightly baggy jeans, white Tshirt, creamy yellow unbuttoned-button-up with sleeves rolled crisply up to her elbows, and hair pulled back in a half-tail, Iruka was more than aware that she looked much younger than she actually was. It was a common point of contention when she had to go out in anything more relaxed than shinobi wear. 

Before Kotetsu could explode on the man, Iruka stepped forward, face aflame. “I really am a chunin,” she mumbled, self-consciously scratching at her scar. “I saw you in the Missions Office last Wednesday as you turned in your report, and I complimented your handwriting. And then you asked me if I wanted to grab a drink with you after my shift ended.” 

She felt both of her friends stiffen in surprise. 

“I said no,” Iruka hastily added, “but suggested that Siizu-san might like to join you. The next morning Siizu-san told me that you both had a - ah, pleasureable evening.” Kami-dammit, now her neck was on fire, too. Why couldn’t he have just let them in? 

The tokujou stared at her in shock, eyes taking in her features for a solid 30 seconds before recognition visibly dawned, and he laughed. “You’re Umino-kun! Damn, kid, you don’t look any older’n 14 in civies.” He laughed again, ignoring the tense way Kotetsu and Izumo were holding themselves behind her, and stepped aside. “Alright, alright; have a fun time, kids,” he winked; Iruka made sure to smile gratefully before yanking her brothers after her and dragging them to a dark corner. 

Once she was sitting (against the wall with Izumo next to her to help shield her and Kotetsu across from them to serve as a distraction), Iruka buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Why. _Why_ does this happen?”

Kotetsu squirmed. “You do look pretty young, Ruka,” he admitted. “But we’ve known you for long enough that we know better.” 

She sat up and gestured irritably to her body. “It’s not like I can help it,” she grumbled. “If I want to look like a boy, I have to wear loose clothes. Loose clothes make me look younger.” 

“It doesn’t help that you’re small,” the blackette added unhelpfully, and Iruka glared. 

“Yes, _thank_ you, Kotetsu; I seriously needed to be reminded of that.” 

“Maa,” Izumo interjected calmly, “why don’t we relax? We’re here to celebrate Tetsu-kun’s birthday, right?”

Iruka sighed and forced herself to relax against the seat. “Fine.” She glanced at Kotetsu. “Gomen, Tetsu. I’ll try not to be a killjoy.” Her smile was slightly strained. 

If only such incidents weren’t a recurring ordeal. 

* * *

Most students enrolled in the Academy at the age of seven. Naruto had been one of the exceptions as he was an orphan, and Sandaime had allowed him to enroll when he was five.

He hadn’t been in Mizuki’s class at first. There had been so many kids enrolled that year, but all of them were at least six, so Naruto had been placed in an older class with a teacher named Hoseki. However, Hoseki had only seen Naruto as the Kyuubi and refused to actually teach him anything. A year later Iruka began as a Teacher Aide and often filled in for Hoseki who was in her second trimester of pregnancy. That was how Iruka officially met the jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi no Youko. 

At first Iruka had wanted to hate him (she couldn’t hate children). She wanted to blame him, to belittle him - but she saw how he struggled to even read his own name, how he cringed from cold stares and sharp words, how he hid tears behind wide smiles (broken, empty smiles), and how he liked to climb the trees in the training yard to look for bird nests so he could make sure the babies were being taken care of. 

And Iruka couldn’t hate him. He was just a boy - a boy who named each baby bird he found, who had saved more than one from falling to their deaths because he had been there to save them, who only wanted a friend and to become a shinobi so that he could earn the love he had never been given freely.

Then one day a bright, blond, little boy had given her a flower, and she had fallen in love. 

Hoseki would be quitting at the end of the year in order to care for her new baby, and her students would be distributed through the other classes depending on their individual skills and abilities. Naruto, Iruka hoped, would be in Mizuki’s class next year - at least so she could make sure the boy was actually being _taught_ instead of just neglected. 

Iruka started tutoring children in her free time, odd jobs here and there for Academy students who were struggling in their classes. It worked so well that by the time Yule rolled around, parents began coming to her to ask for her services. Since it was extra money in her pockets, she agreed - but not till after Yule. She had previous engagements. 

“So, what do you want for Yule, Naru-kun?” Iruka stretched on tippy-toes to reach two bowls in her cupboards for cereal. When no answer was forthcoming, she turned in concern. “Naruto? Are you okay?”

The blond was looking at her in confusion. “Whaddya talkin’ ‘bout, Ruka-sensei?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure I understand, Naru-kun.”

His brows pulled down, and he bit his lip - a picture of unsure confusion. “People get thin’s on Yule?”

“Of course, Naru-kun. Have you never gotten anything?”

Naruto shook his head solemnly. “Orph’nage ladies alway lock me out fer th’ night. They say demon-gaki’s can’t celebrate Yule with good kids.” 

Oh, kami, that was worse than she’d thought. Something - probably her heart - shrivelled and just about died before suddenly combusting with the heat of her ire. Three deep, even breaths, and she knelt in front of Naruto. “Naruto,” she said very seriously, “you are not a demon-gaki. You are a boy, and you are a _good_ one.” She sighed. “Yule is a celebration where friends and family give each other gifts to show each other how much they mean to one another. There’s good food, and singing, and people having fun together.” 

To her dismay, this only served to depress Naruto further. Right; how could she forget?

“Okay. Okay.” Iruka squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. When she opened them again, she made sure to smile. “Alright, Naruto. How about you spend Yule with me?” 

He nodded emphatically. 

Her smile was more genuine. “Alright. What food do you like?”

Naruto brightened instantly. “Ramens!” 

Why wasn’t she surprised?

* * *

Iruka, Kotetsu, and Izumo were laughing and drinking weak plum wine in her parents’ old home when the hesitant knock came. 

“Ruka?” Kotetsu’s smile was curious. “You didn’t say anyone else was coming.” 

She swallowed, hiding her nervousness. No, she hadn’t, because how did you tell your friends that the container for the beast they had all lost something to was joining them for the entire holiday? “It was sort of… last minute,” she said instead. Iruka stood, then hesitated. “Please don’t hate me for this,” she whispered, and they froze. Something in her hardened almost protectively. “And don’t you dare hurt him, either, or I’ll - I’ll have to stop you.” With no other explanation, Iruka went and answered the door. 

Naruto stood on the welcome mat dressed in a thin, patched jacket once more falling apart, threadbare gloves with holes in most of the fingers, ripped jeans, and a pensive expression that made the chunin’s heart ache. “R-Ruka-sensei?” he shivered. 

Thrown out of her dismal evaluation, Iruka smiled and ushered him in. “Come in, Naru-kun. Here, let me take your jacket.” Thin, brown fingers had only brushed the cloth of his clothes when she realized that the poor child was soaked to the skin. “Naruto,” she exclaimed worriedly, “what happened?! You’ll catch hypothermia in these!” 

Instantly she was herding him into her living room where a fire blazed in the fireplace and her teammates sat on floor pillows, blankets piled comfortably around them. Both men froze upon seeing the boy, but Iruka forcibly did not notice. 

“You stay right here,” she told the wide-eyed jinchuuriki, “and I’ll bring you dry clothes so that you don’t get sick, alright?”

Naruto ducked his head. “Ne’er been sick,” he muttered uncomfortably, fingers twisting together under the attention of the two older males. 

Iruka shot a distracted glare at them over his head before turning back to him and saying, “Well, we wouldn’t want this to be the first time, would we? Take off your jacket and gloves and lay them on the ground in front of the fire, and then grab one of the blankets and sit there until I come back, alright? It’ll only be a minute.”

He glanced warily at the room’s other occupants, and Iruka softened, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling gently. 

“Don’t worry,” she assured softly. “You’re perfectly safe here. This is... my home, and they are my guests - and my friends; they won’t hurt you here, alright? Or ever. You’re safe.”

As he gazed up at her, blue eyes earnest and searching, something in him relaxed, and he nodded with the tiniest answering grin. “‘Kay, Ruka-sensei,” he murmured and moved to the fire.

Iruka straightened and hurried into the back rooms to dig up some dry clothes. 

Upon her return, she found Naruto - still in his jacket and gloves, the imp - crouched with his back to the fire, eyes untrustingly trained on her teammates. 

She sighed and strode over to him. “Come on, squirt, let’s get you out of that jacket, ne?” Iruka crouched as he stood (he was still shorter than her this way), and she helped him peel out of his wet clothes. When he hesitated to remove his boxers - clean at least, but obviously old and getting a little small - she caught his eyes and smiled gently. “Ne, don’t mind them, alright? Or me - You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, and I care more about your health than privacy.” 

Naruto jerked an uneasy nod before quickly stripping his underwear and socks off, hastily pulling on the dry boxers and green, long-sleeve shirt that hung almost to his ankles. He frowned questioningly at her as she rolled the sleeves up. 

“My tousan’s,” she smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find any pants. The only box of my old clothes that I’ve kept didn’t have pants left from my _wild_ days climbing trees and catching myself on fire.” 

Little hands flew to his mouth to hide a squeaky giggle. Iruka smiled and tugged on the shirt once to settle it straight before giving it up as a lost cause; the neck hung permanently off of one of his shoulders. 

She reached behind her and snagged one of the smaller, fluffy blankets and wrapped it snugly around him. “Come on.” Gently guiding him away from the fire, Iruka reclaimed her place and settled Naruto in her lap, arms wrapped both protectively and comfortingly around him. “Naruto, these are my old genin teammates, Izumo and Kotetsu,” she introduced. “Izumo, Kotetsu, this is Naruto, one of the Academy students I teach sometimes.”

Naruto stared at them solemnly - and peeked one little finger from the folds of the blanket to point at Izumo. “I seen ya,” he murmured. “Wit’ Ruka-sensei. Ya made ‘er happy.” He turned in Iruka’s lap and cuddled against her. “Ruka-sensei sad all th’ time,” he informed the room at large. “Tries t’ hide it, bu’ Naru see it in puddles, too - jus’ like Ruka-sensei.”

Both Izumo and Kotetsu stared at the boy in surprise, and Iruka gazed down at him fondly. She lightly scratched his head with her fingernails, and the touch-starved blond arched up into the touch, a purring sound rumbling from his little chest. 

Iruka laughed and obliged and tucked him closer to her body. “I invited him to celebrate Yule with us,” she said softly, “because he didn’t understand what it was. He didn’t know about the gifts, or the food, or the songs -” Her voice caught and sort of choked up. “Or the family. Or the friends.” She looked at her brothers then, really _looked_ , and said quietly, “He’s just a little boy, Zumo, Tetsu - and no little boy should show up to my home and look like he’s wearing rags while it’s cold and snowing. I won’t - I won’t _let_ him.”

The older chunin shared a look before turning back and softening. Izumo even smiled kindly. “It’s nice to meet you, Naruto-kun.”

And Naruto beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -cchi/chi/ichi: A diminutive suffix like '-ita' in Spanish (i.e. Raquelita) that makes the name more 'cute'  
> otousan: Father  
> tousan: Dad  
> (as far as I understand the formality of otousan and tousan; if I've got this wrong, please let me know)  
> Ee: Means 'Yes' but is between 'hai' and 'un' in formality, 'hai' being the most formal
> 
> Alright, apparently I like you guys more here on AO3 b/c you're getting at least two whole stinking chapters that the folks on FFNet are not. First Yule is also a special for them and an actual chronological update for you, so yay! Honestly, this comes from me realizing that I didn't have enough situations of Iruka just being Iruka. As much as I'm writing this fic for the angst, I also want to help you guys get to know exactly the vision of Iruka I have in my head; this means more Iruka (which is awesome), but also more Iruka in situations that show her actually interacting and building relationships with other people. Hence, you guys will get to read the first of the AO3-exclusive installments where you'll see that Iruka-sarcasm we all know and love (if I can write it correctly), and Iruka interacting with pre-show Kakashi.
> 
> Oh! Quick note on Yule: I am from the United States and a family where Christmas is very family-focused. However, as we all know, Naruto takes place in a bastardized version of Japan (looking back I realize this sounds bad, but I mean it in a nice way XD. I'm just saying that Naruto has many Japanese customs and culture thrown in while not technically being set in Japan - the map is WAY different). Taking this into account, I did some research into Christmas in Japan and learned that it is primarily a couple's holiday, much like Valentine's Day here in the U.S. - which you will actually see in a later chapter. For the sake of this fic, anything not directly addressed in the show will probably be a mix of U.S. and Japanese traditions (unless I say otherwise lol), which is what happened to Yule here since I figure Naruto doesn't have Jesus anywhere in it's history. 
> 
> Alright. So much rambling has happened. Since I have to write the next chapter still, you guys will get it January 9 - for those of you in different time zones, in 11 days. After that I will try to post a chapter exactly every 14 days (every other Thursday for me, since that seems to be my prime schedule). 
> 
> One more shout-out to everyone one of you; you guys are awesome. Please subscribe, leave kudos, and review if you haven't already (or want to again, lol), and I'll see you next week! :D


	3. Age 17 - Survive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter will double the word count of the entire story so far. Hah. That's... actually not surprising. The lengths of my chapters tend to fluctuate, but I try to get them all at least 2,000 words if I can help it. Anyways, this chapter is not part of the FFNet version, so enjoy. Also, more gratuitous use of Japanese words; the definitions will be found in my Corner of Ramblings as usual. 
> 
> Warnings: implied torture, bitter!Iruka, references to a not-so-great genin-hood, we're beginning to touch on the darker aspects of being a shinobi
> 
> Don't forget to subscribe, leave kudos, and/or bookmark if you like this fic :) Thank you!

The first time Iruka officially met Morino Ibiki, it was on orders. 

“It’s good to see you again, Iruka-kun,” Sandaime smiled, kind and grandfatherly in the way she preferred (but didn’t feature in too many of her early memories). “Please, take a seat.” 

Iruka had been powering through the pile of the end-of-year paperwork Mizuki had oh-so-kindly left for her to do when an ANBU had appeared in the classroom window with a summons. She smiled gratefully and took the seat, confusion warring with politeness. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.” Confusion won. “Why send and ANBU, Sandaime-sama? No hawk means no mission, eto(1)…” The chunin trailed off, unsure how to continue.

The elderly man chuckled. “You have a good eye for detail, my dear; it’s a shame to think I will never have you for one of my jounin.”

To anyone listening in - who knew Iruka well enough - it would be implied that the Hokage was referring to the fact that only chunin taught at the Academy. However, Iruka’s shoulders stiffened minutely within her vest; Iruka would never be _allowed_ to accept a jounin promotion, and her leader’s words were a painful - if unintended - reminder. She forced herself to relax. “Ah, I’m just where I want to be.” The placid, assuring words brought with them the sour taste of bile; she swallowed discreetly and maintained her smile. 

Sandaime eyed her for a moment. He hummed thoughtfully. “Yes. Yes, you’ll do just fine.” More directly he said, “Iruka, the reason I called you in is because I would like to induct you into the Torture and Interrogation department.”

Brown eyes widened to the size of saucers. “T-T&I? Sandaime-sama -”

“My dear, allow me to explain.” Her mouth shut with a ‘click’. “Now, you will know this already, but T&I - along with the other factions of our shinobi forces - contains some smaller divisions within its main operating parameters. Among these is a smaller group: the Infiltration and Intelligence Force.”

“Shinjun Chinou Butai(2),” Iruka murmured thoughtfully, leaning back in the chair. 

Sandaime nodded. “Hai, otherwise known as the I&I division.”

“... I’ve heard of it,” she admitted at last, “but only in passing.”

“I’m not surprised. The T&I head is rather protective of this bunch, so he doesn’t advertise their existence. I&I are specially selected shinobi who specialize in infiltration and gathering intelligence, as the name suggests. Missions are infrequent, and identities are jealously guarded. You, my dear, I believe would fit well there.”

Iruka was stunned, to say the least. “A-Ano - Why _me_?” 

The Hokage regarded her kindly. “You are talented, Iruka-kun. Everyone naturally trusts you, you have a good head on your shoulders, you’re cunning, intelligent, stubborn, and you possess a fire that makes you strong - the Hi no Ishi(3). Beyond that, you blend easily into the background, and you have great potential as a shinobi.” 

“W-What about the Academy? Sandaime-sama, sumimasen(4), but I don’t think -”

He held up a hand to stop her, and she bit off her ramblings. “I&I operatives,” he informed her, “do not have frequent missions. In order to keep up their covers, all of them are employed elsewhere and only receive a mission as frequently as they, individually, are needed - about every four to five months in most cases. You would still work here at the Academy and in the Missions Room, but every now and then you would be required to take a mission lasting anywhere from one week to a few months. The pay is good, and you will receive additional training.”

Iruka sighed and leaned forward, faced buried in her hands. When she sat back up, it was with a resigned sort of determination. “Daijyoubu(5). I’ll do it.” After all, what was she but a tool?

* * *

Iruka waited nervously in front of the solid, metal door she had just knocked on. After her meeting with the Hokage, an ANBU had been directed to take her to the head of T&I. 

“Enter,” a loud voice bellowed. 

The young chunin twitched just slightly but heaved open the heavy door and stepped inside. She swallowed, eyes flitting over the form of the young man (huge, scarred, head covered in a bandanna that rumors claimed hid even more scars) before she said quietly but clearly, “Sumimasen, shinobi-san, but Sandaime-sama told me to come here.”

Black-brown eyes lifted and settled heavily on her; Iruka was suddenly very conscious of how small she was in the one-size-fits-all chunin vest, how loosely she obviously fit in her own clothes. After a long, drawn out moment in which she forced herself to meet his gaze squarely, the head of T&I relaxed and sat back. “So,” he intoned, “you’re Umino, ne(6)? Hokage-sama told me you were young; I didn’t realize he was sending me a _child_.”

A barb, deliberate and pointed so as to sneak under her skin. But Iruka had trained herself to resist such words, especially in the face of cunning-sharp superiors. She blinked languidly. “If I were a child,” she replied smoothly, “then I would still do the job my Hokage has given me.” 

He grinned, something shark-like and pleased. “I am Morino Ibiki. Sandaime has informed me that he believes you would do well in I&I. Do you know why he thinks that?”

Iruka placed the rumors to his name - hearsay that floated around the village, glimpses of trench coats, whispers that he was a skilled manipulator and a master of psychology. She tilted her head just slightly. “You have my file, Morino-san.” 

Morino studied her, pleased grin settling into something closer to amusement. “Indeed - but I want _you_ to tell me why our leader believes you should be here.”

“I’m stealthy,” Iruka stated bluntly. “I can improvise. I’m a fair hand at seals, and I’m training my kenjutsu. My aim is good, and even if I usually lose a fight, I always get what I want out of it.”

At this he raised a brow. “And what would _you_ want, little chunin?”

Iruka let her own shark-grin steal across her face. “Training, Morino- _san_ , and the satisfaction of leaving a mark where I couldn’t before.” For all that Iruka was the more mature of her genin team, she had always been the most ruthless - by necessity, mostly, but also for the sheer, petty pleasure of marking in some way the village that had taken so much from her. “Revenge,” she added, and her grin came dangerously close to a sneer. “Revenge for my parents and for the freedom I’ll never earn.” 

_This_ won his interest, and won it by a mile. Morino nodded once, eyes never leaving her. “Good,” his voice rumbled. “Hold on to that anger. It will fuel you during your training, keep you going when you’d otherwise quit.”

_Like I’d have a choice,_ she thought bitterly, and he saw it.

“While that may be true, you will only get stronger here, Umino-san. We will break you and rebuild you as many times as it takes to make you a survivor.”

Flashes of sand dunes and blood-fear and the torture she was only two years free from rushed her, left her dizzy, distant and more-recent past blending into the nightmares she fought each night. But she stood still, stood straight and strong, and squared her shoulders. “I am shinobi,” she stated, “and nothing else.” Her jaw clenched. “I’ve survived before, Morino-san, and now I stand here; I _will_ survive again, because I am nothing _else_ if not shinobi.” _Not even free_. 

Another long, long moment where knowing eyes tried to frighten her, to break her down. Her mouth opened and let slip words she had thought of her sensei but never uttered, had screamed silently to the star-torn sky as a small refugee family fled to the safety of Konoha but never voiced.

“ _I will survive you_.” 

Morino smirked again and stood, moved to tower directly in front of her, forcing Iruka to crane her neck back to meet his eyes, but she never let that position dull the fire burning in her soul. “Good.” The voice was sickly-sweet, a promise and a torture and a warning. “Maybe you’ll be the first.” 

* * *

Abruptly Ibiki pulled away, strode back to his desk and sank into the deceptively soft chair. He watched the young girl before him with something akin to pride; she was afraid (he could almost smell it on her when she came in), but it had been overcome by steely resolve - the Hi no Ishi, and in this one it burned strongly. 

“Do you know what your duties will be?” he asked, tone now almost friendly if still cold. To his delight, Umino did not relax, but she did let the tension bleed from her; to anyone else she would have seemed almost open and inviting. _She will do well_. 

“Infiltration,” she recited. “Gathering intelligence.”

He nodded. She wasn’t _wrong_ , persay, only missing some things. “You have potential, Umino-san, to be one of I&I’s best operatives. I&I is under my command, but you will function outside the direct influence of T&I’s regulations. You go where I tell you, you do what I tell you, and no one will know that you are among I&I’s numbers. Your identity will be absolutely secret. If someone suspects, then you are a hush-hush shinobi of T&I.” 

Ibiki glanced at her sharply, and she nodded in understanding. 

“After every mission,” he continued, “you report directly to me. All injuries you have sustained will be treated by my own medics, and your missions will always, _always_ be top-secret.” 

Another nod of confirmation, and he swallowed the slightly sour taste lingering on the back of his tongue. This girl wasn’t quite eager, but it was close enough that it tickled the conscience lying dormant in the back of his mind. She didn’t know what she was getting into, and Ibiki knew her file; it was one of the first he had ever become acquainted with as an apprentice ( _“Be careful,”_ his shishou(7) had warned, _“careful, because this one is foreign, and she will not belong, and she will_ know _it like she knows how to kill: intimately and with hatred hidden deep in her soul and glimpsed through her eyes.”_ ) (Ibiki had never seen a woman who loved her village more). 

“I&I is always in need of more operatives,” he said coolly, “but the conditioning is too… _stressful_ for more than a handful to handle. If the Hokage himself has recommended you, then I think you’ll make it.” Ibiki breathed steadily. “You will be taught to withstand torture,” he stated bluntly. “You will be trained in iryojutsu, and will be conditioned to always come back alive, always, no matter your situation, so that the information you gather can be used to save lives.”

He stood again and faced her fully; she lifted her chin, brown eyes as steady waves against the cliffs. 

“What you will do, what you will face on missions, will be worse than anyone will ever be able to know. You will want to die, to give up, but you _will_ make it back because the only reason you will take these missions at all is because the intelligence you bring back will save the lives of your comrades many times over. You will do this, even if it kills you, because there will be no one else to do it; they will all be on missions of their own.” Ibiki let his tone become crisp. “Is this clear, chunin?”

Umino didn’t snap to attention like he had intended, but flowed swift and deadly into readiness. Her stance did not change, but her will burned bright as the sun. Ibiki saw this, and he smirked again. “Hai, Morino-san.”

Yes, she would do _very_ well.

* * *

Two weeks later Iruka limped cautiously into her apartment, keys jangling in her hands as the other fumbled with the stack of scrolls - her ‘homework’ as dictated by Ibiki. She had been training at T&I HQ everyday for the past fortnight, working with other operatives, a spare ANBU member, or Ibiki himself on occasion, and after every session she was sent home with scrolls on various jutsu, techniques, and the cultures of other nations. Considering the chunin was required to help plan lessons and grade for Mizuki’s class, Iruka was swamped. 

Iruka carefully shut the door behind her and dumped her load on her kitchen table before stumbling to the sink to boil water for tea. She had just filled the pot with water and was carrying it over to the stove when three things occurred simultaneously: the front door crashed open with an accompanying, “Ruka-sensei!”, stabbing pain tore through her causing the teapot to fall to the floor with a resounding ‘CRASH’, and Iruka followed it not a second later. 

“Ruka-sensei!” Little feet pattered recklessly to her side, a brightly blue sea of chakra that Iruka only registered on the edge of her awareness, and a flash of orange threw itself to its knees by her side. Hands anxiously hovered over her, afraid to touch. “Ruka-sensei, are you ‘kay?!” 

Tears blurred her vision, and Iruka couldn’t manage to force words past the cry that lodged reflexively in her throat. 

“Ruka-sensei!” 

Her heart ached for a moment, guilt at scaring the boy so badly, but then another wave of fire shocked her back to senselessness, and she grit her teeth in painful rictus. Agony sent shivers of burning ice through her veins and made her tremble, roared in her ears like so much rumbling water, and she didn’t even know Naruto had left her side at all. 

When the thunder died and she could feel the press of her body against the hardwood floor once again, there was someone else beside the blond (white chakra, crackling and strictly controlled despite its average reserves, so different from the whipping tempest beside it). 

“How long has he been like this,” a vaguely familiar voice demanded even as swift, experienced hands traced her limbs for injury.

“C-Couple o’ minutes,” she heard Naruto stammer, worry evident in his trembling voice. “I opened th’ door an’ heard Ruka-sensei fall, an’ when he didn’ respon’ I ran out to get some help.” Oh, that sounded like the strain of tears; Iruka’s guilt redoubled. “W-Will Ruka-sensei be ‘kay, shinobi-san?” 

The hands pulled back, and the shinobi sighed lightly. “Your sensei is very hurt. Can you go tell the Hokage, Uzumaki-san?” There was a beat of silence - Naruto must have been nodding - before a stumble of motion took the jinchuuriki boy away. Iruka was left alone with the stranger. “... Can you hear me, Umino-san?”

She managed to twitch her head, breath hitching at the wave of pain that followed. 

“Good,” the man - young, she noted, though his voice was deep, but likely only a few years older than her - said dryly, “because you are awful at pretending to be unconscious.” 

Anger reared up to fight the pain - _How_ dare _he the smug bastard let me punch his face kami help me_ \- “I wasn’t pretending,” she bit out; her breath hitched as the pain flared enough to swallow her ire. 

“Maa, whatever you say, Umino-san.” 

And suddenly she could place that stupid, stupid voice. “Hatake-san?” Iruka pried her eyes open enough to see the jounin uniform topped with a single visible eye and a bush of silver hair - and her irritation swallowed the pain. “ _You_.”

He raised his brow. “Me?”

Iruka levered herself into a half-sitting position leaning back against her cupboards, heedless of the ceramic shards that bit into the palms of her hands. She blinked through the haze so as to properly glare at him. “Yes, _you_ . Your last mission report was three - three! - weeks late, Hatake-san, and it was _covered_ in inappropriate scribbles! Not only that, but you nearly gave poor Haigo-san a heart attack! And Yeino-san an aneurysm!”

The bastard hummed in boredom. “Only nearly? I must be losing my touch.”

She saw red. “ _Losing your_ \- Argh!” Iruka lifted a hand to fist in her hair but jerked it back with a hiss as soft strands found open wounds. 

Hatake rolled his eyes and reached for her hand, but Iruka only saw him coming from her peripheral vision, and with the haze of pain and anger in her system, she only saw another man, from a different time, moving to strike her. 

Iruka’s entire body moved in a twitch, still too weak to actually move, and a quiet yip of fear and pain escaped her lips. The movement of her body caused the arm propped beneath her to give out, and her head would have cracked against the floor if the hand approaching her hadn’t belonged to a shinobi with incredible reflexes; long, pale fingers slipped between Iruka’s head and the floor. The unexpected contact threw her remembered panic into overdrive, and she cried out as if stung, the hand recoiling in shock. 

* * *

Sarutobi Hiruzen, Hokage of Konohagakure, strode into Iruka’s kitchen just in time to witness this last reaction, and he frowned internally at the state one of his favorite chunin was in. “Kakashi,” he suggested calmly, “it might be best if you give Iruka-kun his space.” 

The socially awkward jounin hesitated - whether in concern or confusion or discomfort it was unclear - before moving to stand behind him. Little Naruto instantly took his place, small hands fisting in his sensei’s shirt. 

“Ruka-sensei! Ruka-sensei, are you ‘kay? Please be ‘kay, ‘kay? If yer not, then who’ll get me ramens? ‘R let me spend Yule with’em? Ruka-sensei?”

Tears welled in the boy’s eyes, and Hiruzen’s grandfather-heart melted; he knelt beside the blond and carefully felt Iruka’s pulse - fast and too thready for his liking. He pulled back. “Iruka-sensei will be alright,” he informed Naruto warmly, meeting watery-azure steadily. “He will need to visit the hospital, but he will be fine.”

Iruka squirmed, eyes blinking blearily open. “No,” she mumbled even as her eyes slipped closed once more. “No ‘ospitals. Can’t… Can’t go. ‘Biki said - said part o’ m’ trainin’.”

Hiruzen sighed wearily. Honestly, he had forgotten the sort of training Iruka was going through. Forced through genjutsu after genjutsu, reliving terrible memories or made-up scenarios, put through endurance training, taught to resist torture and gather intelligence, taught to gather intelligence _while_ being tortured, training in taijutsu, genjutsu, and ninjutsu till she dropped, and then sent to the hospital for iryojutsu training before going home to study, practice more, and keep up with her duties at the Academy - Iruka was kept going every minute of every day, and often times into the early hours of morning before being expected to do it all again a few hours later.

“Alright, Iruka,” he murmured tiredly, “alright. I will do what I can for you, but then I will have to leave you.” 

Her face contorted against what must have been another wave of pain, but she nodded.

He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “Come, Naruto-kun; why don’t you go sit on the couch while I make something for Iruka-sensei to eat, hm?”

Naruto glanced up at him, clearly disliking the idea of leaving his sensei, but he nodded reluctantly and left the kitchen. 

“Kakashi,” he said quietly, and immediately the jounin was by his side. “Take Iruka-kun to his room and then help me clean up this mess. After that you may go.”

The young man nodded and did as he was told, quietly telling Iruka that he would be picking her up and carrying her a little ways. She stiffened but otherwise did not react to his touch as she was taken to her room. When Kakashi returned he quickly swept the broken shards up and threw them in the kitchen - and hesitated as he left. 

Hiruzen was busying himself around the small kitchen, boiling more water for tea in a spare kettle and heating some rice and broth he had found in the fridge. Without looking behind him he asked, “Yes, Kakashi?”

“... Umino-san,” he began. “He… flinched. When I moved to help him.” 

He still did not turn around. “Do you forget things so easily, Kakashi? You were there to find him, were you not?”

From the last Hatake’s chakra, Hiruzen could sense the sudden understanding. Kakashi did not say anything, but he did not have to. 

“Iruka-kun has been training vigorously in genjutsu in recent weeks, and his tutor is… aggressive. Thorough might be a better way to put it. In any case, Naruto-kun’s sensei has most likely re-lived those memories, so they are not as far from the light of day as he would otherwise keep them.”

Kakashi’s chakra fell carefully blank. “I see,” he said simply, voice void of emotion. 

“Hai. You may go, Kakashi, unless there was something else?”

“No, Hokage-sama.” The boy activated a shunshin and vanished from the small apartment; once he was gone, Hiruzen leaned against the counter and rubbed at his eyes. 

He was too old for this. 

* * *

Iruka woke in her bed, the light, soft blue of her walls and ceiling reflecting the dawning sun in soothing tones.

The pain in her body had dulled for the most part, and her muscles had relaxed. She could also think clearly which was always a plus.

She stretched with a tired sigh and grimaced faintly at the lingering aches. After a moment Iruka allowed her senses to stretch out in a way she rarely allowed, chakra pulsing in a steady, low-powered rhythm. It was sort of like echolocation: Iruka would send out her chakra in short bursts and allow it to bounce off her surroundings and come back to her in the way of images or impressions - the impressions of images - she instinctively translated in her mind. Useful - and not something she had ever told Sandaime about. 

Beyond that though, Iruka’s chakra was naturally sensitive. She had been born a sensor, if not one with great range, but what she _could_ sense was in vivid detail. It was also overwhelming enough during her day-to-day activities that the chunin had learned at an early age how to suppress the ability.

So, now, letting her chakra unspool like gentle waves around her, Iruka learned that Naruto - bright, lashing, burning - was asleep on her couch. There were traces of the Hokage in her kitchen (fire burnt down to coals, steady and warm but ready to spring back to life if needed) and what a rather pointed pulse told her was food long since gone cold waiting for her. Oh, well.

With another sigh she rose and got ready for the day, chakra curling back in, grateful that she still had two or three hours before she was to report to Ibiki again. Once she was showered and dressed, Iruka stepped into her living room. 

Naruto was curled up on his side, knees drawn tightly to his chest and both hands limply curled in the natural space his body created. With a soft smile, Iruka took the blanket draped over the back of the couch and draped it over the boy, then meandered into the kitchen. A cup of tea and two small bowls, one of rice and the other of broth, waited for her. Seeing that the food had not spoiled, Iruka dumped the tea but put the two bowls in the oven to be reheated. The kettle on the stove was re-filled and reheated, and after 20 minutes Iruka sat at the table with a fresh cup of tea and a light breakfast.

Predictably, drawn by the smell of food, Naruto joined her still half-asleep and dragging the blanket behind him. 

“Ohaiyo(8),” Iruka greeted.

“‘Haiyo,” the blond muttered and yawned. 

Iruka grinned and stood, ruffling his hair as she moved past him to get him some food of his own. Once she returned to her seat, she opened her mouth to speak - and was oh, so rudely interrupted by her two of her best friends barging through her front door. 

_Seriously. It’s like I don’t even keep it_ locked. 

“Ruka-cchi!” Izumo and Kotetsu stumbled over to the table and froze upon seeing her. “What happened,” Kotetsu demanded. 

“You look like shit,” Izumo supplied helpfully. 

She rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks. Really, guys, I’m fine -”

“Ruka-sensei fell down las’ night,” Naruto supplied, mouth full of rice. 

Iruka glared at him in betrayal. 

“You _fell_?” Izumo clarified. 

“Jiji said she hurt too bad,” the little, blond gaki continued, “an’ her body ‘gave out’. I had t’ go find help,” he added gravely. 

Used to Naruto’s terms of endearment, Izumo asked, “The Hokage?” at the same time Kotetsu questioned, “ _Fine help_?”

Chopsticks clenched in her hands and sick of the topic, Iruka interrupted. “Yes, the Hokage. I’ve been ordered - _by the Hokage_ \- to undergo some new training. A large portion of it is endurance training, so I’m not allowed to treat any but the most serious injuries I’ve received. This leaves me tired, and sore, and yes, I fell last night because it all caught up to me. Naruto-kun was over, and he went to find help, and he brought back Hatake-san -” The two men winced in sympathy, “who sent Naruto-kun back out to get the Hokage. Sandaime-sama checked me over, made sure I was comfortable, and left Naruto-kun and I to sleep. _That’s_ what happened.”

Her friends eyed her, arms crossed over their chests. Kotetsu spoke first, voice dry. “New training, ne?”

Iruka bristled. “It’s _true_ , dammit!” All at once she slumped in on herself, forehead resting on the table and shoulders slumping with exhaustion. “Gomen,” she muttered into the wood. “I’m just really tired; it’s been non-stop for two weeks, and I still have a ways to go.”

She heard someone sigh, and then one hand from each older male was settling either on her head or back. “It’s fine,” Izumo assured gently, voice pitched in the way he knew to soothe her. “If this is orders from the Hokage, then it’s not like you can say no. Just - We’re here for you, alright? Whatever you need, whenever you need it - we’re here.”

Iruka thought back to the memories she had been reliving, but instead of the fear and the pain, she recalled three genin standing together, fighting for each other, and finding comfort in each other when there was otherwise none. She lifted her head enough to see them, a desperate sort of hope and gratitude nearly overwhelming her. “Always?” she whispered.

Izumo smiled, and Kotetsu swooped in to wrap his arms around her shoulders. “Always,” the blackette mumbled in her ear. 

“Always,” Izumo agreed.

And for them, _with_ them, Iruka knew she could survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language Notes:  
> (1): Eto vs Ano - Eto and ano are both very similar to the English use of 'uh' in the middle of a sentence, used to buy time or when you forget what you're saying. 'Eto' is used when you don't know what to say, and 'ano' is used when you don't know how to say it. 
> 
> (2): Shinjun Chinou Butai is just the word-for-word translation of Intelligence and Infiltration Force. I totally made up this branch of T&I, but it made sense that there would be divisions that specialize in very specific things even within T&I
> 
> (3): Hi no Ishi - alright, I'm not sure if this is the direct translation, but this is the Will of Fire
> 
> (4): Sumimasen - In a culture as focused on respect as Japan, 'sumimasen' isn't a word you want to forget. It's used in literally just about every interaction they have, and it means 'thank you', 'excuse me', and 'sorry' - sometimes all three at once. If you ever go to Japan, make sure to use this as it is considered polite, even if, in English, technically none of those meanings apply to the situation. 
> 
> (5): Daijyoubu - Alright/Okay
> 
> (6): Ne - This one's a little harder. It's sorta similar to 'ano' and 'eto' in that it's an interjection instead of a word, but it means something similar to 'hey' or 'eh' if you follow the Canadian stereotype. I use it as 'hey' at the beginning of a sentence and 'eh' at the end, if that helps.
> 
> (7): Shishou - Argh! Okay, this is one of those that I /really/ had to do research for. It's similar to 'sensei', in that a shishou is a teacher, but the difference is that it means something more like 'master'. I think of the term 'Sifu' in Avatar the Last Airbender, where a Sifu is someone who has mastered a particular technique - like Pakku for Katara in the Norther Water Tribe or Piandao for Sokka in the Earth Nation (wow. I think way too hard about this). Also, this section is a nod to chapter 22 of 'Ripples in an Ocean' by Swiss Army Knife, one of the inspirations for this fic. (http://iaidojodotraining.blogspot.com/2012/05/sensei-personal-take.html) --> This link is where I found the best descriptions of different words for a teacher in Japanese
> 
> (8): Ohaiyo - You probably already know this, but 'ohaiyo' means 'good morning'. I try to keep my times of day lined up with the greetings I use lol
> 
> And just as a quick note, 'jijii' means 'old man'; 'grandpa' is 'ojiisan' or 'jiisan'
> 
> Okay, so this note is a little longer than I wanted. I won't repeat Language Notes on words I've already used, but you can always go back or write them down if you need to :) My Wacom is kinda hating me rn, so the art I wanted to show you guys won't be for a little while yet, sorry. Also! If you have questions about some of the things implicated in this chapter, there's a chance those questions will be answered next chapter. If not, I'll drop a reply and let you know. 
> 
> Haigo and Yeino are characters I made up in order to fill up the village a little more; I figured there had to be more chunins than we see, so I randomly named a few of them. If y'all have suggestions for names you want to see, or even an OC you'd like me to feature for a scene or two, let me know :)
> 
> Thank you all so much! You guys are AWESOME!


	4. Age 18 - A Little Bit of Background

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an early chapter to make up for the fact that I won't be updating for four weeks. Between school and trying to actually continue the plot of this fic (instead of just adding filler chapters when the desire strikes me), I'll need a few weeks to get everything back under control. Anyway, I thought y'all would like to learn more about Iruka's past. As always, more notes on the chapter can be found in the End Note.
> 
> Warnings: implied torture, mentions of past abuse/rape/torture, massive angst

Iruka stared blankly at the wall in front of her. 

“You know why we do this,” Ibiki was saying, and he sounded tired. So was she. 

The bitterness welled before she could repress it. “Because I’m literally a slave to the system? Because, no matter how often or well I serve this village, I will still always be  _ gaijin _ ?” Her words held more bite than usual, and her friend stiffened where he stood; she slumped. “Gomen-nasai,” she murmured and scrubbed her face with her hands; her fingers bumped into the cool metal of her hitai-ate. “I just…” Iruka sighed and let her hands fall to grip the edge of the table she sat on. “I just wish proving my loyalty didn’t always have to end in pain, you know?” 

It was Ibiki’s turn to sigh, and he sat beside her, their shoulders barely brushing. “You are young,” he murmured without looking at her, “too young to have to face this. But you and I have no choice as long as that council is in control.” 

Another sigh, words a breath in the space between them. “I know.” She felt the vague urge to cry, but her tears had long ago run dry. Iruka straightened and turned to her torturer. “Let’s get this over with, Ibiki-san; I promised Naruto to visit once I returned from my mission.” 

Ibiki nodded and stood, both shinobi stealing themselves for the ordeal ahead. 

It wasn’t going to be pretty. 

* * *

When Iruka finally limped home, her whole body ached something fierce. The extra injuries she had gained from Ibiki had all been healed with chakra, of course, but the wounds she had received on her mission had all been left the way they were; she wanted nothing more than to sleep and forget why she wasn’t sent out on missions very often. 

Instead she was greeted with the sight of her old genin teammates waiting up for her in her apartment with a meal set out between them on the table. 

This time the urge to cry was stronger, but it was for very different reasons. “Zumo, Tetsu,” she murmured, and her voice cracked. 

Both chunin rose and crossed the floor, frowning in concern. “Ruka? You alright?” 

She struggled to reign in her emotions, but judging from the way her friends’ faces flashed with protective anger before settling into somber sympathy she failed. Kotetsu reached out and drew her into his arms. “I don’t understand,” she rasped out, “why loving my village has to be so  _ hard _ .” Iruka gulped and did not see the look the men shared above her head. “I  _ try _ , dammit, I  _ do _ , so  _ why _ does it feel like it doesn’t do a  _ damn _ thing? All Ibiki and I can do is fill out our orders and move on, but I…” By now a couple tears had escaped, and Kotetsu held her tighter. “I’m just so  _ tired _ .” 

They let her cry silently until she sniffed and pulled away; Iruka wiped her cheeks with her wrist in embarrassment. 

“Gomen. It’s just - It was a long a mission.” 

Izumo gently took her hand and led her to her bedroom, making a motion to be quiet before he silently opened the door. There was Naruto, fast asleep on her bed. “He refused to leave,” he murmured even as she melted at the sight of the seven year old clutching the stuffed frog she had bought him for his last birthday to his chest (he had named it Gamachi). “He wouldn’t even eat the ramen we offered, saying that it wouldn’t be the same without you to eat it with him.” 

Iruka felt exhaustion sweep over her, and she leaned heavily against the doorframe before Izumo half-led, half-carried her back to the living room. There her friends helped her out of her dirty clothes and bandage her wounds, then forced her to eat some food before ordering her to catch some sleep; they would be there all night. 

She jerked awake after a nightmare some time later, heart beating frantically in her chest. The chunin barely noted the blanket spread over her or the sight of her friends conversing quietly at the table as she rose from the couch and stumbled back to the bedroom. Iruka watched the very-much alive child asleep in her bed until the profound relief abated, and she fumbled her way onto the futon beside him; Naruto instinctively curled into her warmth even as she wrapped herself protectively around him. 

Her nightmare didn’t bother her again that night. 

* * *

“... She loves that boy,” Kotetsu murmured as they watched their friend wake from her nightmare and go to sleep next to the jinchuuriki. 

Izumo sighed. “I know. I’m not sure if  _ she _ knows it yet, though. Or him.”

Kotetsu hummed. “... They’re good for each other, though. I was afraid we weren’t enough to keep her going anymore.”

At this the slightly more mature chunin winced in agreement. Their sister-in-arms had always been strong, but her suffering had been great, and it was beginning to show. She was only 18, for kami’s sake - still practically a child. Except she was, at least emotionally and mentally, the oldest one of them. After a long period of silence he suggested thoughtfully, “Maybe we should introduce her to Genma-san and Raidou-san. They would be able to help keep an eye on her, I think.” 

The other nodded. “It’s worth a try.” His grin was wry. “No one can help but love our Ru, anyway.” 

Izumo nodded and took another sip of the warm sake. It was definitely worth a try. 

* * *

A solid roundhouse kick to the punching bag, a swift elbow jab and pivot into a left hook as it came swinging back; a duck and several quick, short jabs with her fingers and wrists, and -

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.  _

Iruka caught the bag and huffed. Who could it be? It was Saturday, her day off, and she had dedicated it to cleaning (which was done) and training (which was not). 

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK _

“I’m coming!” she shouted, picking up her towel and wiping the sweat from her face and neck and wringing it from her hair as she walked. 

The chunin had decided to use the dojo in her parents’ old house - a house the Sandaime had let her keep even though she had moved into an apartment not long after the Kyuubi attack. It was a nice house: two stories in the traditional style and an enclosed walkway that connected the dojo to the main house. The backyard sported a koi pond, a couple trees, and a sandy area for sparring if she wanted out in the sun. In short, if Iruka had tried to buy the house herself, it would have taken at least a decade to save for it. 

_ KNOCK KNO- _

She swung the door open with an irritated glare and a sharp remark on her tongue - but froze when she saw who was standing there. “Genma-san? Raidou-san?” Iruka paled. “Oh, shit. Genma-san and Raidou-san.” The young girl glanced down at her outfit: black, workout capris-leggings, a black sports bra, and her hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes shot back up to the tokujou, cheeks flushing in mortification at her unpresentable appearance. 

For their part, both men simply stared in incomprehension. “Um, I believe we have the wrong house?” Genma managed. “We’re looking for Umino-san. Kotetsu and Izumo told us to come on ahead when they got held back at the Missions Desk.”

Her face fell into her hands. “I  _ am _ Umino-san,” she muttered darkly. 

Raidou stiffened, paled, and breathed, “Oh, shit,” just as Genma exclaimed, “You’re a  _ girl _ ?!” 

Iruka’s shoulders tightened, and she glared at her superiors. “And what,” she bit out, “is  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Before they could get a word in edgewise she plowed on frostily, “I am more than aware of the fact that I might not really  _ look _ or  _ act _ like my actual gender, Shiranui-san, but it is the height of rudeness to  _ point that out _ .” At the end her voice fell to a dangerous growl that caused the target of her anger to back up into his partner. 

“I’m sure that’s not quite how he meant it, Umino-san,” Raidou interjected smoothly. “You only took us by surprise, is all.” 

She slumped in shame and regret. “Gomen-nasai Raidou-san, Genma-san. I’m just a little tired right now; I’ve been cleaning and training all day.” The fact that she had been made extremely self-conscious was tactfully left out. Iruka stepped to the side and opened the door wider. “Ah, why don’t you come in?” They did so hesitantly and followed her into the dining room/kitchen area. “Would you like some tea? Ah, there’s also orange juice, water, milk, or coffee if you’d prefer.” 

“Tea is fine,” Raidou smiled politely. 

Iruka returned the smile weakly and set the water to boil. “Excuse me while I clean up.” 10 minutes later she had showered and thrown on light grey sweats and an Ichiraku souvenir shirt that said “Second Best Customer - Happy Birthday, Iruka!” Her hair she pulled back into a tight french braid in order to keep all the hairs from flying free at the first opportunity. When she padded back into the kitchen, it was just in time for the pot to whistle, and she was much more relaxed (the shirt - a birthday present from Naruto and the Ichirakus - helped a lot). With efficient movements she served the tea and sat across from her visitors, her own cup in hand. “You might as well ask your questions,” the chunin said with a forced smile. “Otherwise we’ll all just be left uncomfortable.” 

Raidou opened his mouth to protest, but Genma blurted, “Why do you hide it?” 

And even though she had been expecting it, Iruka was still uncomfortable.  _ When will those dunderheads get here…? _ “It wasn’t intentional to begin with,” she informed them with a forced nonchalance to her tone. “I grew up as ‘one of the guys’, I guess, and my heritage sort of gives mixed signals as to my gender, which doesn’t help. As a student at the Academy and then as a genin, I was a very active swimmer, and I trained as often as I could.” She didn’t mention that it had been necessary in order to buy her parents way into Konoha. Iruka shrugged. “I looked so much like a boy that everyone just assumed, and I never corrected them. After that, though, well, for a few of my missions it actually helped that they all thought I was male, so then Sandaime-sama helped me reinforce the idea so that it could never get out.” With an internal wince, she realized that that almost left more questions than it answered - and judging by the tokujous’ faces, she was right. 

“You’re close to the Hokage, then?” 

_ He vouched for my family. _ “Yes. He practically took me in after both of my parents were killed in the Kyuubi attack.” 

They winced. 

“It’s no big deal.” Again, a fake smile. “It’s been eight years; I’m fine.” 

Eight years - and with a jolt Iruka realized that she had missed her 18th birthday; she’d been on a mission in the Land of Waterfalls. “I thought you were an Academy teacher?” Genma was asking, and she focused back on her company.

“I am  _ now _ \- and I’m still only an aid. I went on missions just like every other genin and chunin before I took this job a year and a half ago.”  _ It was a perfect cover for my  _ real _ profession _ . It was true; who would believe that harmless, unassuming, chunin Umino Iruka was one of T&I’s most skilled operatives? So skilled, in fact, that she was an unofficial member of ANBU. No one, that’s who. 

“Why teaching?” Raidou inquired. 

A shrug. “Believe it or not, I actually like the gakis.”  _ And I don’t like that we only teach them how to be weapons, how to kill - not how to pull the pieces back together after they break, how to be decent human beings when they’re not on duty. _ Sandaime had suggested the Academy to her just for that reason. 

Iruka, you see, was rather unique amongst shinobi in that she did not believe that being a weapon was all there was. She taught her kids kindness, and friendship, and teamwork, and mercy, and compassion, and, above all, the joy of a life well  _ lived _ . But no one knew this except the Sandaime, and it was he who encouraged it. The ‘curriculum’ was so new that there were no obvious results as of yet, but she held out hope. 

“That  _ is _ hard to believe - especially since you have the Kyuubi gaki, don’t you?” 

She stiffened, but before she could snap a retort a new voice sounded, “I wouldn’t insult Naruto-kun in Ruka-chan’s presence if  _ I _ were you, Genma-san.” Izumo and Kotetsu climbed in through her window (left open for that purpose). Immediately Iruka relaxed; a true smile - irritated and fond - stretched across her features. 

“You’re late,” she accused, but they all knew she didn’t mean it. 

“Maa, gomen, Ruka-chan,” Kotetsu apologized. “That Hatake bastard showed up right as our shift was ending, so we had to wait an extra 30 minutes while he harassed us.” 

Iruka groaned and leaned her head back against the back of her chair. “Gaa, I’m glad I didn’t have shift today, then. He  _ always _ manages to just - just -  _ ugh _ .” 

The other chunin nodded knowingly and took their seats at the table while the tokujou watched them interact with their hostess. “Kakashi, ne?” Genma smirked, senbon switching sides in his mouth. “Yeah, he’s always been a bastard. Just a different kind, lately.” 

Raidou grimaced. “We help out in the Hokage’s office sometimes, and we hear stories. Still. And he’s two years younger than us.” 

Iruka faked a shudder. “Kami forbid jounin lose their minds even  _ earlier _ . The very structure of the village would be undermined.” 

Kotetsu leaned forward and pointed accusingly at her. “Don’t even  _ joke _ like that, Ruka; you’re gonna jinx all us poor chunin, and we barely manage keeping everything together as it  _ is _ .” 

This earned an interested look from the tokujou, but they were ignored in favor of the female’s apologetic glance. 

Raidou coughed lightly. “As much as I enjoy this, I have to ask: why did you want us to meet Umino-san?” 

“Iruka, please,” she corrected automatically, and he tipped his head in her direction. 

“Well, it goes like this,” Izumo replied. “You see, lately Ruka-chan here has been on increasingly frequent missions outside of the village since she’s only a teacher’s aid until she can get fully certified. The only problem is that she’s always left in pretty bad shape afterward, and Ko and I have been too busy lately to check in on her as often as she needs.” 

She spluttered, face red. “I don’t need a  _ babysitter _ !” 

“Previous experience says otherwise,” Kotetsu replied flippantly. “She’s real bad at following her doctor’s orders, and it always takes her twice as long to heal.”

“Alright,” Genma drew out, “but why  _ us _ ?”

This had the male chunin glancing a little uncomfortably at each other. “Well,” Kotetsu said, “as she’s probably already explained, very few people know her true gender, and that means very few people can take care of her properly. There’s us, of course, and the Sandaime, and one or two others like her doctor and a couple of her other need-to-knows, but everyone is always too busy for everyday house-calls when she’s laid up after a mission.” 

Raidou’s eyes were thoughtful. “And this is after  _ every _ mission? Forgive me if I sound presumptuous, Iruka-san, but if you’re  _ always _ getting injured, then why don’t you take lower-ranked missions?” 

At this all three chunin squirmed. “Ah, well, you see,” she hedged, “I actually own and upkeep two properties: this house, and the apartment that I actually live in. It costs a lot of money to keep this house, and since I became too old to qualify for the Orphan Fund I’ve had to take either more missions or fewer high-ranked ones in order to keep both places. And before you ask why not just get rid of one, well…” She trailed off and stared down into her empty cup. 

“This home was where she lived with her parents,” Izumo explained gently. “She can’t bare to get rid of it just as much as she can’t bare to live in it.” 

“I want…” Iruka trailed off; stark, painful honesty ached in her words and her eyes as she said quietly, “I want to someday give this home to Naruto to raise  _ his _ family in. He has so little, and he works  _ so _ hard, and I want him to know that, if nobody else,  _ I _ care, and  _ I’ll _ be his family. My parents left this house to me, and I will leave it Naruto. I’ve had a chance at it, and soon it will be his turn.” 

Silence echoed around them, the tokubetsu jounin shocked at her words and her friends full of grim understanding. Izumo stood, stepped lightly over, and wrapped his arms around her so that she could hide her watery eyes in his sleeves. 

When they pulled apart, Genma spoke as if nothing had happened. “So, tell us about you guys; how do you know each other so well?” 

At this Kotetsu grinned. “We were a genin team, of course. Actually, we almost didn’t have Iruka, but then the other girl got scared out of her wits on our first C-rank mission and quit, so Sandaime talked our sensei into letting Iruka try out. He liked her enough that he kept her, and the rest is history.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m a stray cat you picked up,” Iruka pouted, and all the men laughed. “What?!” 

“It’s nothin’,  _ Ruka-chan _ ,” Genma grinned, and she flushed rather prettily. 

“I’d rather you didn’t call me that,” she grumbled good-naturedly, but she was ignored. 

Raidou asked, “Who was your sensei?” 

Another pause, but then Izumo was replying lightly, “We don’t like to talk about it.” 

The silence stretched awkwardly for a minute, two… 

“Oh, come off it,” Iruka suddenly snapped; her hands were clenched around the cup her eyes glared stormily into. “It’s not like they can tell anyone else, anyway - it’s the  _ law _ .” She stared at the tokujou, jaw set in defiance - as if daring them to say something. “Senju Giruko,” she fairly spat, “was our sensei.” 

Now the tokujous’ eyes nearly bugged out of their heads. “ _ The _ Senju Giruko? The jounin renowned for being the last of the direct Senju line besides Tsunade-hime? The jounin who…” Genma trailed off as if realizing just what he was about to say.

But Iruka didn’t have his compunctions. “The jounin who went crazy and almost killed his last genin team? Who went nukenin and kidnapped his students on a B-rank mission and held them captive for a week before ANBU could find them? Yeah,” she snarled, “ _ that _ Senju Giruko.” 

The tokujou stared at the genin-turned-chunin who had been the pity-talk of the entire shinobi population for months afterwards.

“The Sandaime wanted to protect us,” Kotetsu said quietly, his own eyes down-turned, “so he issued the order that our identities and the identity of our sensei be kept an S-class secret unless we ourselves chose to share it. But we don’t… We don’t talk about it.” There was a barely noticeable tremble in his clenched hands, and Izumo rested a hand on his shoulder. 

She watched the pain cross the faces of her friends, recalled the mission she had returned from a couple weeks ago, and the anger, and the shame, and the agony, and the betrayal all came rushing back in. And something in Iruka snapped. “Well, maybe we  _ should _ talk about it. Kami knows that we haven’t in almost the three years since it happened. Maybe we  _ should _ talk about it, because then it wouldn’t be the only thing you see in your nightmares at night or just another thing on my list to be exploited after my missions.  _ Maybe  _ we should talk about how Giruko-sensei hit us, how he came to training drunk and belittled us, how he practiced experimental jutsu on us, how he used genjutsu to make you watch the Kyuubi attack over and over again, how during that last week that he had us he raped Kotetsu and made us watch, or how he cut you open, Izumo, and made me drink your blood, or how he got off on our pain and our screams and then left us to drown in pools of our blood and his cum and  _ that’s _ how the ANBU found us.” Her voice broke, her head bowed to the table as she cried. 

“Maybe we  _ should _ talk about it,” Iruka rasped, “because we obviously  _ aren’t over it _ .” 

Izumo and Kotetsu were crying, too, fat, humiliated tears because their sister was right - was  _ always _ right - and all that pain still ate them like acid. 

Raidou and Genma watched on as the three chunin broke down. Three years seemed like a long time, they knew, but it wasn’t very long at all, and it was obvious that Inoichi-san hadn’t been doing his job with these three like he should have. With a glance at each other the two tokujou stood and set about refilling everyone’s cups with fresh tea. It was then they decided, sitting across from a broken team - broken  _ comrades _ \- that they would be friends to these chunin, and that nothing would change that or take that away. 

They really didn’t know what they were getting into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language Notes:   
> gaijin: offensive term for a foreigner. I honestly didn't look this up, but I'm too tired and stressed rn to really care  
> Gomen: Sorry. 
> 
> So. Um, please don't kill me? I know, I know, but Iruka's sensei is a detail that plays a large part in her life and will be referenced throughout the fic - even playing into a minor plot point a long way from now (I have that section pre-written, lol). Speaking of Senju Giruko, I totally made him up. I thought it was weird that literally every other Senju besides Tsunade was killed in the previous two wars, so I made the assumption that /someone/ was left. Since he has witnessed the end of his clan, plus the destruction of the Kyuubi, I thought he might also be a drunk bastard hiding from his problems (kinda like Tsunade, only /way/ less cool). And since Tsunade is awesome and didn't let her grief completely overwhelm her, Giruko is, again, a bastard undeserving of life. Also, character development for Iruka, Izumo, and Kotetsu. 
> 
> Speaking of Iruka! I thought I should add something of her timeline. Using the Narutopedia, Iruka graduated when he was 11. He gained chunin at 16. We don't know who his genin team or sensei was (so I took liberties, obv.). However, we also know from canon that Iruka is about 11 years older than Naruto /and/ that he graduated /after/ the Kyuubi attack. After doing some math, I realized that Iruka was 10 when the attack happened and then turned 11 the next May, which fulfills all of the timey-wimey wobbly stuff that the canon timeline seems to do. 
> 
> Finally, we are introduced to Genma and Raidou! Yay! I love those two, srsly. I broship them 100%. 
> 
> Any questions, comments, or concerns? Don't hesitate to leave a review. I'm trying to make this story understandable, but it's a little difficult since I'm writing all the chapters out of order. Thank you all for being awesome!! :D


	5. Age 18 - Mole(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's the next installment. This happens to be another one of the chapters that Facade doesn't include, so you guys will get to see exactly how Iruka joined ANBU - sort of. PLEASE READ THE NOTE AT THE END since I have an important question that I really would like you guys to answer.
> 
> Warnings: allusion to the harsh I&I training/torture, um... I think that's it? I didn't really re-read this before I posted it since it's already a day late (sorry) If I missed something, please let me know.

Iruka looked up from the barrier seal she was modifying at the light knock on her window - an ANBU. With a sigh she capped her inkwell and left the scroll to dry on her living room floor, shrugging into her chunin vest, stepping into her sandals, and locking the door on her way out. 

She was led to T&I. 

“Iruka-san,” Ibiki greeted once she was in his office.

“Ibiki-san,” she replied politely, a touch of honest warmth to her smile; Iruka liked the man, she really did - she just regretted the  _ reason _ they were friends. 

Two men slipped through the door as she blinked and came to stand to her left. Both were taller than her by three inches at the most, and both stared stoically ahead of them. Iruka, naturally observant but  _ especially _ so since beginning her training (almost a painful level of hyper-awareness), immediately noted the differences of the shinobi beside her. 

And not just the differences between the men themselves - she saw the differences she  _ shared _ with them, the differences that set them apart from Ibiki behind his desk or the civilians in the streets. 

The man closest to her had dark skin, maybe five shades darker than her own. His hair, however, was a light, storm grey-blue (worn in a low tail that brushed just between his shoulder blades), and his eyes were chips of blue midnight. He wore a standard ANBU uniform sans mask, and he had a similar build to Iruka.

The second man shared that build, though he was closer to Iruka’s height, and his skin was the same golden tan as Naruto’s. His hair was the same shade as his companion’s but longer, tied back in a braid that ended mid-back; his eyes were the clear blue-white of a winter sky. He glanced at her and offered a slight smile.

“Ibiki-san?” Iruka asked in confusion, eyes taking in the foreign coloring, dread pooling in her gut.  _ I don’t like where this is going _ . 

“These two men are Kohu Hamono and Kohu Shuugeki. They are brothers who came from Kumo seeking sanctuary. Their okaasan was a civilian medic from Kumo and their otousan a minor nukenin from Kiri.”

She  _ really _ didn’t like where this was going. 

“Hamono-san and Shuugeki-san have been in my care for 19 months under which time they underwent the same training as you in order to become a part of I&I.” Ibiki turned his focus to all of them. “Now that Iruka-san has completed her own training -” Two pairs of eyes fell on her in surprise, and Iruka flushed without ever taking her eyes off of her superior, “all three of you will be participating in a top-secret project only the Hokage and myself know about.” 

All three straightened reflexively, and the head of T&I smiled grimly.

“The moment you leave this office, you will all be honorary members of ANBU. You will receive the tattoo and mask, but you will not be on official record, and you will not take regular missions. Your focus is on infiltration and intelligence exclusively. You answer to me directly or the Hokage should the matter be of great enough importance. Due to being only honorary ANBU, you will be registered as non-ANBU members of I&I, and you will take missions both as your mask and not. You will be expected to maintain training befitting your ANBU level, and should an emergency befall the village, you may be called on as ANBU.”

By now Ibiki was standing, arms folded across his chest, planted across the desk from them. He let out a breath that might have been a sigh, and one hand came up to swipe tiredly at his face. 

“What you are about to be apart of is new. It is an experiment, one Sandaime-sama and I wish was not necessary. What you will be called on to do will be beyond the normal scope of the missions your fellow I&I - even the other ANBU - will take on, and you  _ cannot _ afford to fail  _ any _ of your missions. It will be the most painful, and stressful, and dangerous thing you ever do - dangerous physically, but also dangerous mentally and emotionally. This,” he informed them seriously, “is why there are three of you.

“Outside of this room, no one knows that you three specifically are behind the mask. No one will know your identities, not as I&I operatives and definitely not as ANBU. I know how risky this is, especially since you three show promise.”

He eyed them thoughtfully for a moment.

“Your training was harsh - bordering on insane. It is not standard I&I training. In fact, it is 10 times harder. You will continue to be put through training worse than that, but it will keep you alive. That is  _ my _ job in this experiment: to keep you all alive and stable. You three now know each others’ faces. Outside of the Hokage, the only people you are allowed to speak to of this project are in this room.” 

Another moment, and Ibiki seemed to make up his mind. From a drawer in his desk he pulled out a scroll, and from the scroll he unsealed three masks.

“Identical, Ibiki-san?” the midnight-eyed one asked, voice heavy. 

“Hai. This is what sparked the idea for this little experiment in the first place.”

In Iruka’s mind, something clicked, and she couldn’t help the surprised “Oh!” that escaped. “There has never been identical masks in any village’s ANBU,” she said out loud, brain whirling a hundred miles a minute. “Hokage-sama and you want to see if having more than one mask given to people of similar abilities will allow for more gathered intelligence and more secrecy.” She blinked, something like excitement bubbling in her chest. “That’s - That’s  _ fantastic _ !” 

Ibiki shot her a wry - slightly amused - glance that did absolutely nothing. “Yes, thank you, Iruka-san. However,” he continued in the same vein as before, “that is  _ exactly _ why we are trying this.” He picked up a mask and held it out to the boy with winter-sky eyes who took it without hesitation. The second mask was delivered in the same manner. When the final mask was presented to Iruka, she only hesitated a second before taking the smooth porcelain. 

She studied the red markings. “I don’t - I don’t recognize this animal,” Iruka frowned. “A rodent of some kind, I think, but there’s already Mouse, Squirrel, Rat, and Rabbit, and this looks equally dissimilar to all of them.”

Sky-eyes straightened with delight. “Ah! Mole, perhaps? I saw one for the first time after coming to Hi no Kuni, and it looked something like this.”

Iruka blinked and squinted at the face of the mask. “If you say so,” she allowed unconvincingly. “I mean, if you kinda look at it sideways with one eye more closed than the other and  _ squint _ -”

Ibiki snorted and whacked her upside the head, but Iruka was laughing and grinning (lying through her teeth). “Yes,  _ thank you _ , Iruka-san, for your input. But yes, Shuugeki-san, you three will be ANBU designation Mole.” He quirked a heavy brow. “Rather ironic, ne?”

“Maa, maa,” Iruka dismissed lightly. “We already know you’re clever, Ibiki-san,” She turned serious, “but what aren’t you telling us?”

He sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. “Trust you to cut to the heart of the problem,” he mumbled before straightening and facing them squarely. “Shuugeki-san, Hamono-san, you were not here in Konoha to know this, but Iruka-san, you may have heard of Root?”

The chunin frowned. “The Foundation?  _ Danzo _ -sama’s Foundation? It was disbanded, wasn’t it? At the end of Sandaime-sama’s reign.”

“... Do I want to know how you know all that  _ S-rank secret _ info?”

She flushed and scratched at her scar. “Ah, no?”

Ibiki sighed again, this time more in exasperation at her familiar antics. “Fine. I’ll let that go. But yes, Iruka-san is correct. Danzo-sama started Root as a branch of the ANBU. They were given different training and were meant to operate solely from the shadows as Danzo-sama took on the more…  _ unsavory _ aspects of running a hidden village. However, Danzo-sama began to involve himself in things that were  _ not _ for the good of the village, and so Sandaime-sama had Root disbanded shortly before he chose Namikaze Minato as his successor.” He paused. “However. In recent months I have come to suspect that Root was never truly disbanded, only paused for a short while. I have evidence, what little there is, but I will not at this time divulge it to you. I’m telling you this because you three, as Mole, will be the counter-play to Root. Danzo will not know anything more about you than he already does, and he will never know the identities of Mole - or even that Mole is more than one person. You are being set up to be the most successful operatives Konoha has ever known, and you  _ cannot _ blow it. Am I understood?” 

“Hai!” they snapped out simultaneously. 

He nodded. “Good. Now, I will leave you three to become more familiar with each other. When I return, I will take you to receive your tattoo and to be properly outfitted as both ANBU and I&I agents.” Ibiki stood and left the room, door closing silently behind him. 

Iruka stared at the mask in her hands.  _ I can’t believe it _ , she thought numbly.  _ I’m - I’m an ANBU! _ She knew that chunin were made ANBU if not frequently, then regularly enough that it was no great shock. But for  _ her  _ to be counted among that number…? 

The sound of a throat being cleared brought her back to reality, and when she turned it was to find both men watching her. Sky-eyes stepped forward and bowed. “Allow me to introduce myself: I am Kohu Shuugeki, and this is my older brother Kohu Hamono.”

She returned the bow with a smile. “I’m Umino Iruka.” When she straightened she asked, “Why did you come to Konoha?”

“The same reason listed in your family’s file,” Shuugeki replied nonchalantly. “Asylum.” Upon seeing her expression of suspicion he placated, “Ibiki-san had us read your file and the files of your parents. He said it would be easier than making you talk about it.” 

Iruka smiled wanly. “Well, he wasn’t wrong. How old are you both?” 

“20,” Shuugeki answered, “and niisan is 23.”

“You look the same age.”

“Good genes,” he shrugged, and she smirked. 

“At least some people get them;  _ I _ obviously didn’t.”

Shuugeki frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t  _ look _ like a girl, now do I?” Iruka’s tone was just this side of bitter. “Believe me, this isn’t all a disguise. This is pretty much exactly how I look all the time.”

He raised a mocking eyebrow. “You mean stick-thin and swimming in your chunin vest?”

Like the mature 18 year old she was, Iruka stuck out her tongue making Shuugeki laugh and Hamono roll his eyes. 

“Children, both of you,” he murmured, but it wasn’t said meanly. 

“And proud of it,” she grinned. She stuck out her hand. “Call me Iruka. If we’re gonna be working so closely together from here on out, then we might as well be friends about it.” 

Shuugeki happily shook her hand, Hamono following with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“So. What do you guys specialize in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shuugeki: Storming  
> Hamono: Edged Blade
> 
> IMPORTANT: The next chapter is technically finished. However, there is sort of an omake I'm adding to the end, and I want to know if you guys just want me to post the chapter as I have it next Thursday (so that I'm back on my alternating update schedule) or if you guys would like the longer chapter even if it's a couple days/maybe a week late? Please, please, pLEASE let me know. 
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who has read, subscribed, bookmarked, or commented on this fic! It means the world to me, honestly :)


	6. Age 18 - Uchiha Massacre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in the end I wasn't able to finish the ending I wanted to add :/ Instead I'll keep working on it and include it as an omake at the end of a future chapter. 
> 
> Warnings: general angst, Mizuki-yarou

The moment that Iruka learned the fate of the Uchiha, she rushed to the hospital without bothering to throw on her chunin jacket (she barely remembered her sandals). One look at her harried appearance, and the nurses led her to her student’s room without question (everyone knew Iruka loved her kids). 

Sasuke was there, small and pale and unconscious in his too-big, too-white bed. 

Tears stung her eyes, and the chunin took a seat on the bed by his side; one of her hands carded through his hair while the other held his own. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and the tears began to fall. Her hand stilled, and she leaned forward and wrapped his limp body in an embrace, pillowing his head on her shoulder and rocking him gently back and forth. “ _ I’m so sorry _ .” 

She was sorry, of course, that his entire clan had been killed by his brother. However, she was more sorry that it was his brother that had taken the blame. Being T&I’s top operative, she had been considered (or, rather, her ANBU codename had been considered) for the mission Itachi had been sent on by the Hokage. That’s right: she knew the truth of Itachi’s ‘defection’. In the end, however, Itachi had argued that she was needed in Konoha to help keep the peace, to help his otouto, and to make sure that, if Sandaime died, there was someone who knew the truth; Sandaime agreed, and so Itachi had left to join the Akatsuki, and Iruka was left feeling helpless. 

Sasuke shifted in her arms, and the chunin gently set him back on the bed. “Sasuke-kun? Sasuke-sun, can you hear me?” 

His onyx eyes, so much like his brother’s, blinked balefully open, and her heart shattered anew. 

“Oh, Sasuke.” Once more her hands found his and held on tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I wish I could take your pain so that you never had to hurt again, and I wish that you had never had to know this pain in the first place - the pain of losing  _ everything _ .” Because she  _ had _ lost everything; first her home, then her parents, followed by her culture, and bookend-ed by her innocence. No one should have to lose like she had lost, and she was determined to keep that from happening. 

“... Ir’ka-s’nsei?” he slurred; Iruka forced herself to smile. 

“I’m right here, Sasuke-kun. What do you need? Another blanket or pillow? Water?” 

He blinked, eyes narrowed in confusion. “Iruka-s’nsei, yer a  _ girl _ .” 

And, despite the entire situation, Iruka found herself laughing. “Yes, Sasuke,” she agreed, “I am - and I always have been.” 

Sasuke nodded solemnly (somehow that made her even more sad, because she knew his mind was purposefully distracting him from what had happened). “Explains why th’ dobe’s always bringin’ ya flowers.” 

Her expression softened. “Yes; it does, doesn’t it?” Silence settled comfortably around them until Iruka felt the need to say something almost choke her; she swallowed. “Sasuke?” 

He looked at her with those big, dark eyes. 

“Sasuke, I want you to remember, whatever else happens, that I’m here for you - to talk to, to be yelled at, anything. I…” She swallowed again, this time past a different lump. “I lost my clan, too,” she whispered and ignored the way his eyes nearly bugged. “I lost my clan, and my heritage, and my freedom - but you can still have those things.” Now she held his gaze in earnest. “You have me, and I will never abandon you. You have your traditions and your clan name, and at least  _ most _ of your freedom, so Sasuke,  _ please _ don’t ever give those things up, because you won’t ever understand how precious they are until they’re gone.” 

Sasuke settled back into his pillows, face turned away broodingly. Iruka sighed, gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and stood. 

“I’ll ask the Hokage to let you stay with me, if you want, Sasuke, at least for a little while.” 

When she received no response, she sighed again and walked out the door with a final backward glance. 

Iruka hoped it was a start. 

* * *

She supposed it was too much to ask that there be only one crisis in the school year; this was a hidden village, after all. 

As Iruka raced through the forest outside of Konoha's walls, she reminded herself of this and the fact that she really  _ did _ love Naruto despite his many attempts to seemingly give her a heart attack. It didn't take long to find him (the kid was incredibly unstealthy, something she'd have to fix), and thankfully he was unharmed. Unconscious and exhausted, probably, but unharmed. 

The chunin breathed a sigh of relief and cradled the boy a moment longer than necessary before carefully positioning him on her back. Now it was back to Konoha and hoping that the enemy min didn't find her and her precious cargo. 

A rather…  _ interesting _ encounter with Konoha's strongest jounin later, Iruka collapsed at her desk in the Academy classroom and rubbed a hand across her tired eyes.  _ Maybe I'm getting too old for this. _ She had just resigned herself to growing old before she even hit 20 when a familiar presence entered the room. 

"Shikamaru-kun?" she asked before her eyes had even finished opening. 

He studied her intently - checking for injuries, she realized, and a fond warmth softened her posture. 

"I'm alright," she assured gently. His eyes flicked up to hers in question. "Naruto, too. You probably saved his life, you know." 

The young genius's cheeks flushed a light pink, and he looked down at his toes. "Troublesome," he muttered, but Iruka knew he meant the praise. 

“Maybe,” she conceded, “but you still saved a classmate’s life, and since Naruto will most likely never know it’s up to me to reward you.” 

Shikamaru’s head shot up in confusion causing her smile to grow. 

“Meet me at Ichiraku’s this Saturday at eight in the morning. I know, I know, it’s troublesome,” she forestalled, “but trust me; you’ll like what I have to show you.” 

He regarded her warily before nodding and leaving. At least it wasn’t  _ chores _ , he supposed. 

* * *

On Friday, Iruka was about ready to tear out her hair. 

“Kiashi-chan, put that down  _ right _ now!”

“Lore-kun, get  _ down _ off that table!” 

“Naruto!” 

“Kiba,  _ why is that in your mouth _ ?!” 

“Chouji-kun, could you please run down to Shiaara-sensei’s room and ask her for an extra length of rope and bandages? Thank you.” 

“ _ Naruto _ !” 

“No! Hey!  _ Kiashi _ !” 

“Kiba -”

“NARUTO!” 

Her yell cut through the room like a knife, and suddenly everything was deathly quiet. Naruto, balanced on his tiptoes on the back of a chair on a desk on its side on the edge of his sub-level, froze mid-arm swing - and promptly clattered to the ground. 

Iruka sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, an action which transitioned into massaging her scar.  _ This is too much _ . 

“Alright, class,” she said mildly, “it looks like we’re going to have a pop-quiz on Monday.” Groans and cries and distressed wails filled the air but halted with a stern glare from their teacher. “No. You are all training to become shinobi, and shinobi must learn to live with the consequences of their actions. And, sometimes, those consequences extend to those they work with, which is why  _ all _ of you are taking that quiz regardless of whether or not you deserve to be punished for your awful,  _ awful _ behavior.” Properly chastened (at least, most of them), the students slumped in dejection. “Class dismissed.” 

At this there was none of the usual excited shouts, just a silent line of miscreants filing out the door. 

“Gee, Iruka, what’d you do to your kids, today?” 

She turned to Mizuki and sighed. “Promised them a pop-quiz on Monday - which you would know if you were ever  _ in class _ , Mizuki.” 

He only laughed and cuffed her on the shoulder. “Hey, what do you say we grab a drink, ne?” 

Iruka rolled her eyes and turned to collect her things from the desk. “You know the answer to that, Mizuki.” 

She felt him step up behind her - too close for comfort - and say benignly, “Do I, though?” The words were accompanied by the feel of hands settling on her hips, so the younger chunin turned and glared in an unimpressed fashion. 

“Mizuki, you have been trying to get in my pants for almost as long as I’ve known you - which is since we met in the orphanage, if you remember. And, once again, I would like to remind you that I am a  _ male _ and I  _ don’t swing that way _ .” 

His eyes virtually devoured her the way they slid lecherously up and down her body - but Iruka stood firm and ignored the queasy feeling in her gut as he murmured, “Maybe you should try it; you might enjoy what I could do to you.” 

“No,” she bit out and shoved her papers in her bag which she then slung over her shoulder, “I would  _ not _ .” With that she walked coolly out of the classroom and to her apartment. 

Just as she passed the park, a small blond-and-orange bundle raced up to her. “Ruka-sensei! Ruka-sensei!” 

Iruka paused and turned her smile to him. “Ohayo, Ruto-kun; long time no see.” 

He stared at her blankly, and she swallowed a sigh; he’d understand in a few years. Hopefully. 

“What’s up, Naruto?” She noted the nervous way his fingers twisted in his jacket, how he couldn’t quite seem to stand still. “Is something wrong?” 

The jinchuuriki scratched the back of his head. “Maa, Ruka-sensei, I jus’ - I wanted t’ ‘pologize fer my ‘havior in class.” 

Iruka blinked in surprise.  _ Did I die and go to heaven…? _

“‘S jus’ ‘times - ‘times my tummy jus’ feels all funny, an’ my arms an’ legs get all prickly, an’ only movin’  _ helps _ , Ruka-sensei, dattebayo!” Big, azure orbs peered up in desperate earnestness, and Iruka’s heart melted (as always). 

She smiled softly and ruffled his hair. “Ah, I know you can’t control it, Ruto-kun. Everyone else feeds off of your energy though, and it - well, it drives me up the wall.” Her smile turned into a grimace before slipping back again. “Come on; why don’t we get some ramen? We can go over the questions I may - or may not - put on the quiz.” 

He beamed. “Yosh! Ramen, dattebayo! Arigato, Ruka-sensei!” Naruto seized her hand and proceeded to drag her laughing and grinning to the ramen stand. 

Ramen just made everything better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like I might need to explain a little bit. I'm sure y'all noticed, but I based that bit in the middle where Iruka rescues Naruto from... the anime? Does it appear in the manga? I have no idea, since I only watched half of the first anime and then only read in Shippuden up until almost the end of Pein Assault. Yeah. So, I haven't actually seen this filler, but I did my best based on the Youtube videos I could find lol. 
> 
> As for Mizuki: I'm sure you also noticed how much creepier he is in this chapter despite it technically only being a year since we met him, right? Well, that's because I had originally planned on including more interaction with him to show how he devolved. Basically the rundown goes like this, since this is still how I imagine it happening: Mizuki and Iruka met in the orphanage. Mizuki became her friend because he pitied her but also because he noticed how much attention the Hokage gave her (which is actually canon, btw). As they got older Mizuki began to get angrier, but Iruka is such a sweetheart that it never lasted very long while in her presence. Then Mizuki kinda started going literally crazy, his repressed anger and hate driving him to the breaking point. Mizuki began to victimize Iruka in his mind until it started to spill over into real life, hence the 'trying to get into her pants' line since most of that victimization, like the sick bastard he is, was sexual (I REALLY don't like him, can you tell?). Anyway, from here on out Mizuki just gets angrier and more hateful even though you won't see him much.
> 
> Ooph. Maa, so much world-building! Anyway, a HUGE thank you to everyone who reads this fic, and an even HUGER thank you to all those who commented, and especially for everyone's amazing support and feedback. Do you guys remember when flamers used to be a real big thing in the fanfiction community? And yet I have never encountered one even though I was honestly kinda expecting it with Not Even Free. We'll see. I still have 14 chapters already written out and the next chapter in the sequence ready to be written (so many ideas happen when I'm being an insomniac lol). 
> 
> My point is, you guys are AMAZING. See you in two weeks! :)


	7. Age 19 - Torn Apart, Glued Together pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late :/ I've fallen behind in my classes, and I'm trying really hard to catch back up so that I don't lose my scholarships. Also, this chapter is... It was hard to write. I tried to write this in the most sensitive and aware way that I could, but it deals with some sensitive things. In fact, it was SO hard to write that I was forced to split it into two chapters so that I can still have more time to write this delicate topic with the care that it deserves. Next chapter will be more hard angst as the issues of this chapter are dealt with, but then we'll be moving on. Next chapter will be more hard angst as the issues of this chapter are dealt with, but then we'll be moving on. 
> 
> Warnings: kidnappings, actual slavery, mentions of sex-slaves, allusions to rape, allusions to consensual sex, angst
> 
> If any of these things are triggering for you, please don't force yourself to read it. As someone who has had to deal with triggers and PTSD in the past, I know how hard facing those things can be. Take care of yourself first and foremost, because you are someone worth being taken care of.

Iruka sat in the dark at her table, scroll open before her. There was no light, for the storm raging outside had blown out the electricity, and she hadn’t bothered with candles (she’d been afraid of what the scroll might say).

She’d had every right to be afraid.

Another sob strangled itself as it left her throat. 

How could - How  _ could _ they?! This wasn’t within her purview! Iruka was - She was - She was… 

_ I’m  _ **_done_ ** . 

Her face was buried in her hands, and tears trickled from between calloused fingers to drip onto her lap and the floor. 

Iruka would need someone to help her. But who could she turn to with  _ this _ ? This was  _ too much _ . 

Definitely not Naruto; he was too young - and not Izumo or Kotetsu; she couldn’t hurt them like that. Ibiki… no. She wouldn’t put  _ this _ on her friend’s shoulders even after all he’d done.

That really only left… well, one person she could trust.

* * *

Iruka let the water mask her presence as she shuffled through the mud up to Genma’s front door. All power (except the ANBU and T&I headquarters, she knew) in the village was out, and it was only by the candlelight and kerosene lamp-light flickering through the curtains in Genma’s windows that she knew anyone was home.

She shivered as icy rain continued to roll down her back before tightening her arms around herself and knocking hesitantly on the door.

A moment later Raidou opened the door - and stared in shock. “ _ Iruka _ ?” 

Around him she saw Genma, both tokujou dressed in sweats, Genma with an apron on that indicated it was time to eat (dinner? Lunch? Iruka couldn’t remember anymore). Genma seemed just as stunned.

She was herded gently inside and handed dry clothes and a towel. In the bathroom she stripped off her jumper, sweats, and even her underwear, took her hair out of its ponytail, and scrubbed herself down with the towel. Tucked inside the shirt she’d been given was a long, thick bandage, so she used that as a binder before slipping into soft, grey sweatpants and a jumper a shade of grey that reminded her of storm clouds. Then she padded out into the living room with her eyes averted and the towel clenched in one hand, bundle of sopping clothes left on the bathroom floor. 

“I’ll go put them in the washer,” Raidou murmured and stepped passed her; she flinched, unable to control the string of panic winding through her, around her, tying itself tight enough around her neck to hang. 

Genma gazed at her with sorrow and stepped forward slowly. “Your hair is still wet,” he said softly, and she let him take the towel, lead her to sit at the kotatsu, and begin to gently wring the moisture from her head. 

* * *

When Genma had first seen Iruka on his doorstep, he hadn’t known what to think. Her small, shivering form had been lit in the warm light spilling from the open door, but it had only illuminated the red and irritated skin that indicated she had been crying and the lost sort of desperation so painfully obvious in her flat, brown eyes. 

As he sat beside her gently drying drying her hair he asked softly, “What happened, Ru?”

She sort of sniffled and shuffled (but did not pull away). “I… I got a m-mission.” 

Something bad then, because she was usually so strong about these things. 

“I’ve… I’ve never gotten anything like it,” she admitted; her voice had dropped in what Genma could only interpret as shame. He stopped drying - he’d done all he could for the moment anyway - and turned her towards him.

“Iruka? What kind of mission?” It was so  _ hard _ to keep his voice gentle and nonthreatening when all he wanted to do was  _ punch _ the bastard responsible for making such a wonderful, beautiful person  _ cry _ ( _ sob _ his instincts screamed, because Iruka would have only come to them like this if she had already been at it for a while,  _ hopeless _ ). 

Iruka tilted her head away, and that -  _ that _ was definitely shame; she breathed, “Honeypot,” and Genma felt Raidou, just about to enter the room, freeze with the same shocked  _ fury _ that had overtaken himself temporarily. She squirmed a little in place and tried to tug herself away from him. “I had to accept,” she explained needlessly - panickedly? “I don’t h-have a choice, you  _ know _ this, an’ it’s not like I _ wanted _ to accept it, yanno -”

She was close to tears again, and that was when Genma remembered that his female friend was a kami-damned  _ sensor _ , one that  _ knew what you were feeling _ . He swore in his head before he forced himself to calm down and exude only peace. “I’m sorry, Ruka,” he murmured and let her pull away to curl in on herself. “We’re not angry at you; we’re angry at whoever thought it would be a good idea to send you on a mission meant for the  _ Seduction _ Corps.” 

The little -  _ Kami _ she was so small like this - female nodded shakily. 

“... Why,” Genma swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Why are you here, Ruka-chan? Why not Naruto-kun, or Zumo-kun, or Tetsu-kun?”

She hesitated, still not meeting their eyes; tears welled once more to spill silently down her cheeks. "I d-don't know - I've never been with anyone," the chunin finally admitted, face flushed. "An' - An' I can't go to th' Seduction Corps 'cause they'll - I'm afraid they'll  _ keep _ me." That admission came out as almost breathless fear, and Genma's heart clenched. "I can't ask Zumo or Tetsu 'cause, well…" Iruka trailed off - but the tokujou was afraid he understood.

"Your sensei," he muttered darkly, and it took all his willpower to keep his emotions under control. She nodded. 

Genma sighed and dragged a hand over his face. He looked up at his oldest friend, and they held a silent conversation. 

_ Well? _ Raidou seemed to ask.  _ Will you do it? _

_ I don't have a choice, do I? She needs the training; she's right about that. And if I'm the one she trusts, then how can I  _ not _? _

Raidou sighed and nodded in understanding. "I'll head home, then." He hesitated. "Good luck." And then he slipped into his sandals and closed the door softly behind him.

Iruka shivered in the cool breeze that was let in and in the process shuffled closer to Genma. When she noticed what she had done though, she jerked back and attempted to fold in on herself even further. 

“What are the details of the mission?”

At this she tensed but unsealed the scroll from some tattoo she must have had on her arm and handed it to him. Genma took and unrolled it - and had to fight with every new line to contain the hatred brewing in his chest. At the end he carefully re-rolled the damning words and returned them to their owner. 

“I see,” he intoned. “... Sex trafficking, ne?”

Iruka began  _ sobbing _ . “I don’ - I d-don’ know why they’re askin’  _ me _ -”

Genma scooted closer to her, hands reaching out to calm her. “Ne, ne, easy, kitten,” he crooned, fingers running gently through her hair and brushing over her cheeks and neck. “Easy, easy. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

He had to admit that Iruka’s decision to come to  _ him _ might have been one of her more genius ones. The tokujou knew well the rumors surrounding him, but one thing they all got right was his fondness for flings. It wasn’t that he was rude or even a  _ slut _ ; he just wasn’t looking to get tied down, and every partner he’d ever had - once or twice or more, it never mattered - had all understood this and had accepted it willingly, usually professing to be of the same mind themselves. In other words, Genma knew what he was doing, and he knew what  _ Iruka _ would need to know. And Iruka had  _ known _ that. 

Smart kid. 

“Shh, kitten. You’re okay.” Iruka gradually began to relax under his ministrations until she was turning to him and burying her face against his shoulder. 

“Easy, easy.” One of Genma’s hands began to skate lightly up and down her spine while the other arm simply wrapped around her, kept her close. Soon enough her tears had ceased. “Easy.”

“I know what you’re doin’,” she mumbled. “You’re gettin’ me used t’ physical contact.” Even as she said that she snuggled a little closer, nothing but a kid searching for warmth and comfort. 

Genma chose to huff in amusement. “Got me. Seems to be working though.”

Iruka sat up, her face aflame as she bravely met his gaze. “Does that mean - Does that mean you’ll help me?” 

He never let his fingers stop moving, always trailing over her arms and shoulders in random paths and patterns. “I think that might be a bit obvious, kitten. I do need to warn you though: what you face on your mission will be rough. I’ll still teach you softly and gently, but, as someone who cares about you, I would be remiss if I didn’t prepare you for the rough stuff, too.”

She nodded, movements shaky but determined. “I understand.” 

The tokujou searched her (red, sad, scared) eyes for the truth of that statement and was both proud and angry that she really  _ did _ understand (she shouldn’t have  _ had _ to). Genma sighed and let his hands fall to hold hers. “Alright, kitten,” he said. “What do you know about birds and bees?”

* * *

Five days later Iruka stood on the doorstep of the brothel where she was to be employed as a maid. She was dressed as a girl in cheap shoes, a worn cloak, and a faded yellow skirt, and her hair was braided over one shoulder. 

The door opened to the lined, beautiful face of the headmistress. “Umino-san?”

Iruka sketched a polite bow. “Hai, Headmistress-san. Hokage-sama sends with me his regards.”

Stern black eyes studied her. “Hn. Biwako-chan was a dear friend of mine. It pains me to know they must now send someone so experienced to look after the safety of my girls.”

“I assure you,” Iruka pressed, “that I am fully capable of performing my duties. I may not be Biwako-dono, but I am the best Konohagakure has to offer.”

A single thin eyebrow rose. “An arrogant assumption, perhaps?”

She bowed again. “Sumimasen, Headmistress-san. I meant only to reassure you of my abilities. I have been given the most extensive training of any of our operatives and am deemed ready by my handler to take on a mission of this importance; I would not have been sent if I was not capable.”

Another hum. “You’ll do. Come, follow me. I will explain your duties.” Iruka followed. “You will be posing as a new maid, innocent and hapless. It is imperative that you gather all the information you can in this way  _ before _ advancing the mission.” They walked down halls and past doors to the servant quarters. “Once the first stage has been completed, you will allow yourself to be taken by the kidnappers. Once you have finished collecting the entirety of your intelligence, you are to free my girls, ascertain the whereabouts of any others, and report back to me with your findings. From there I may be persuaded to send a letter to Sarutobi-sama requesting additional aid in eradicating the monsters.”

“You know what you’re doing, Headmistress-san.”

The older woman paused and glanced at her. “I was once Biwako-chan’s teammate, Umino-san. It had been many years since I vowed to protect the defenseless girls of institutions such as mine, but I still remember what it was like to be shinobi.”

Ah. That certainly did explain many things. “It will be done as you say,” she murmured with another bow. 

This would certainly be an interesting mission.

* * *

It was nearly three weeks before Iruka was able to chase down the remaining threads of information as dictated by Stage One of her mission; she was now ready to advance to Stage Two. 

Iruka, dressed in the plain dress all maids were assigned, scar hidden beneath chakra-activated makeup and hair tied back in a bun, focused on making herself appear as unassumingly appealing as she could. Currently she was sweeping the hall - empty of all others, of course - and humming quietly as she focused her senses on the two men who had been watching her since she started working three weeks previously. These men were regulars - and two of the group who had kidnapped the Headmistress’ girls. 

The men came up behind her. 

“Well, well, lookit’ what we have here,” the bigger one leered; Iruka pretended to be frightened and whirled around, broom handle clutched to her chest, expression one of fear. “A lone little girl jus’  _ beggin’ _ ta be touched.”

Yeah, she felt sick. But she had a mission to do, and she would damn well do it. “I - I -”

“Aw,” the other cooed mockingly, “ain’t she cute?” They stepped closer, crowding her back against the wall.

Her heart stuttered once in her chest.  _ I’ve been trained for this. This is my duty to my village. _ As the first man grabbed her hip and the other took the broom, Iruka thought of Naruto, of Izumo, Kotetsu, and Raidou - and of Genma, who had taught her all he could before she left. 

Iruka was pulled forcefully against a body, and coarse lips scratched at her jawline. 

_ I will survive _ . 

She  _ had _ to.

* * *

All the kidnapped girls were sold at an underground auction. They were taken from different brothels, different Geisha houses, various homes, and even from off the streets. Each abduction happened at random times and in random places, so local authorities were never able to connect the disappearances to each other. Once captured, the women were knocked unconscious and brought to a secret location where they would be prisoners with each other until the monthly auction. 

It was Iruka’s luck that the auction wasn’t scheduled to occur for another three weeks, and if she truly wanted all the intel, then she would have to wait. 

But she could work with this. There were only eight other women in the room with her, and of them, three had defensive training. Everyday four men brought lunch and dinner, and every two days the women were allowed to bathe. Once a week they were forced to perform for the men guarding them however they could; those who could fight were made to fight; those who danced were forced to dance; those who could sing sung, and so on. For those who didn’t have a performable talent, well, there were…  _ other _ things they could do. 

The women were forewarned of that expected of them. When Iruka first heard the speech, there was one other girl who hadn’t heard it before, either. It was this same girl - young, younger than Iruka by at least two years - that tearfully professed to the chunin that she had no talent like what they wanted. 

And that was that. Iruka taught her in the three days that they had how to passably play an instrument. The girl, Keiko, could cook, too, so Iruka asked one of the guards if those with marketable skills, such as cooking, cleaning, or mending, could utilize those talents throughout the week instead of performing on a single night. Thanks to a subtle coercion genjutsu, the men agreed, and Keiko and similarly-skilled women were out to work. It was a sort of trade: they would help gather info for Iruka - and Iruka took their place. 

For three weeks she endured,  _ survived _ , and the night of the auction she memorized who was present before staging a massive breakout. 

A single genjutsu put everyone except the women to sleep indefinitely, and Iruka sent a summons to the local police. Meanwhile, she snuck into the offices and found the records of all past sales. After that the chunin waited only long enough for the police to arrive and for her to explain the situation, showing her hitai-ate as proof, and then she was off into the night to track down the girls she knew to have been the Headmistress’. 

Three days later there was an article in the newspaper about how a mysterious female broke a slave-trafficking ring and even returned dozens of the previously kidnapped victims to their friends and families; the female, of course, had since vanished without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye-yai-yai. This was really hard to write. I didn't want to make anything too graphic, but this is something I've been planning for weeks now (I've just had a hard tome writing it). If you guys have any thoughts, questions, or concerns, please leave a comment. 
> 
> I totally made up the Headmistress and Keiko, obviously, but I hope that's okay. 
> 
> Bet y'all didn't expect that twist with Genma there in the beginning. I promise, this is still 100% a KakaIru fic - eventually. But it's unrealistic to assume that Iruka has never been with anyone before, and it made sense to me that she would have had to take missions like this before. And Kakashi is still being a jerk, the bastard, so we're not seeing much of him at all. 
> 
> If there is anything specific you all would like to see in the next chapter(s), let me know! I enjoy hearing anything from you guys. 
> 
> I would really like a beta for this fic, so if anyone is interested, again, please let me know. There's a lot happening in my life right now, so having someone who can help me edit and plot future chapters would be an amazing blessing. 
> 
> Again, Iruka will actually deal with the aftermath of this mission in the next update. Thank you so much for reading! :)


	8. A/N

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I hate having to get your hopes up with an 'update' that's just an A/N :/

Please forgive me! (T_T) I'm so, so sorry that there has been no new chapter. COVID-19 has caused my university to extend out spring break by a week, and then after that we will be online to the end of the semester. Besides trying to adjust to that, my muse has tragically disappeared for this fic. Like, I still _know_ what I wanna do, and I know what to write, but the _inspiration_ is gone. Having a beta or even just someone willing to let me bounce ideas off of them and keep me motivated would be a blessing! I have a hard time writing all by myself with no one to help out, so if you have any ideas or want to be a beta, please help meee! D'X I can't write this thing without you guys! 

Thank you all for your love, understanding, and support! I don't know when I'll be able to get this chapter finished, so stay tuned. Also, stay safe, and know that for those of you sick or in quarantine, you have my prayers (and hopefully a new chapter soon (o_o).


	9. Age 19 - Torn Apart, Glued Together pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I've finished it! Finally. This took a long time, but I've gotten some great help from hades_bitch and telosphilos. In fact, without both wonderful readers this chapter would not have turned out as it did, so a huge thank you to them! (They've heard me say thank you so many times these last few weeks, so they're probably tired of it by now, lol). telosphilos has even agreed to become the official beta for this story (more on that at the end). 
> 
> Warnings: pretty much the same as the last chapter, actually, with the added bonus that it doesn't end as depressingly
> 
> How the heck do I insert fanart? I finally made something, but I can't figure out how to get the image to stinking work. It's a JPEG, and I did actually go read AO3's own instructions, but IT'S NOT WORKING (T-T). Pls hlp me.

The moment Ibiki layed eyes on her, he knew that this mission had almost been too much. His best operative’s caramel skin was pale, dark circles and bags hung beneath dull eyes, and she held herself with the tension and fear of one afraid to be touched. 

Her report was thorough and precise, but he could tell that she’d left out some of the more _unsavory_ bits of her narrative - at least when they were unnecessary to the report. And afterwards… Afterwards Ibiki couldn’t find it in himself to order her to follow him down to the interrogation rooms so he could re-break her mind in order to build it back correctly. His subordinate - his _friend_ \- was close to breaking but not quite there, cracked, teetering on an edge that if shoved over would ruin her mind beyond repair. Instead Ibiki told her to see her doctor for a medical exam, and then she would be given a month of paid leave before she was expected back at the Academy or on another mission. 

Once Mole left the room, Ibiki sent a summons for Tora. 

“Remove the mask,” he ordered, and then it was Shiranui Genma standing before him. “You trained Iruka for their mission, yes?” In all honesty, Ibiki probably shouldn’t have known this little bit of information, but Iruka had seen fit to tell him that her friend had in fact saved her life with the training he gave her. Knowing what he did of Genma and what the mission had entailed, Ibiki was afraid he knew exactly _what_ that ‘training’ had been.

“Hai,” Genma confirmed; Ibiki recognized the beginnings of suspicion and mistrust in the man’s posture, but there was no need for that.

Instead all he said was, “Thank you.” 

Genma was visibly shocked. 

“You saved her life,” the Interrogation expert admitted, “and her sanity. The fact that she came to _you_ tells me all I need to know about how she’s doing emotionally, which means I can give a report in her favor the next time I see the Council.” He paused, unsure for a moment how to phrase the next part. “Don’t approach her quite yet. She’s just returned, and she isn’t in a good place. Wait for her to come to you for a couple days, and _then_ you may seek her out. Dismissed.”

The tokubetsu jounin stared at him for a moment, stunned, before a wry grin quirked his lips; he replaced the mask, and Tora bowed and left the room. 

With an internal groan, the head of T&I turned back to his substantial pile of paperwork - most of which was for Iruka. 

Because the Konoha Council was out to get her, Ibiki was required to provide fortnightly reports - plus a report after each completed mission - on the chunin. The report included anything and everything from her behavior to her habits, and even went so far as to detail the natures of her various relationships within the village. Seeing as that was a ridiculously invasive and unnecessary tidbit - but still required seeing as Ibiki couldn’t exactly go against the Council - he fudged the realities of Iruka’s friendships as realistically as he could, making it seem as if she was attached enough to stay loyal (she would never betray her home) yet distant enough that the Council would feel no need to harass those she truly cared about. The balance was… tiresome. 

And, since she was just back from a mission, Ibiki would have to fill out that much _more_ paperwork. 

It wasn’t that he _hated_ it. Ibiki respected Iruka, even admired her for her strength and resolve; he would do all the paperwork he could if it meant protecting her as much as he could. But this mission - It had been _awful_ . Just - _awful_. 

The Council, you see, did in fact handle some shinobi assignments. The Hokage, while the military leader of the village and answerable in loyalty only to the daimyo, was more militarily minded and more concerned with the protection of the village and its reputation amongst the other shinobi nations. When it came to political commissions, anything to do with civilians exclusively, and the welfare of the citizens of the entire Land of Fire, the Konoha Council was in charge of reviewing and assigning those missions. 

Essentially, the Council acted as a civilian police force with shinobi as its enforcers. 

So, when a mission involving missing civilians from a brothel under the care of a retired Konoha kunoichi was filed, it went to the Council. 

Ideally, the mission should have gone to the Seduction Corps (Yuwaku Gundan in the old language, or YUDAN after the manner of ‘ANBU’). Not only would they have had the training, but they would have had the _training_ . Umino Iruka had been as celibate as one could get, uninterested in a romantic attachment of any kind, plus she was already burdened with the emotional trauma of a village out for her guts and a former sensei who had sexually abused her teammate while forcing her to watch; she was _not_ a logical choice.

However. 

The civilian police of the capital city of Hi no Kuni, Honou no Machi, had reported evidence of a large-scale operation: a sex-trafficking ring embedded in the very underground and dank alleys of the metropolis. A shinobi from YUDAN would be able to infiltrate the ring, but they wouldn’t have the brute strength or skill to not only gather the information but save every innocent there, as well. 

That’s why Iruka was chosen. She was known for her compassion and kindness as well as her skill. Because Ibiki knew the truth of her ANBU and I&I recruitment and the _true_ extent of her abilities, he was unable to refuse the Council when they requested her specifically. She was, in all honesty, the best for the job. 

The large amount of paperwork was tied to the fact that Iruka did not receive or submit any of her missions to the Mission Desk. She reported directly to Ibiki at T&I, and since Ibiki wanted to spare her as much torment as he could, he filled out the mission reports and submitted them himself to the Hokage and the Council (unless it was an I&I mission, and then it was only to the Hokage, of course).

Ibiki popped his neck and sighed, pen gripped loosely in his hand. As much as he liked Iruka, she was high-maintenance in a way that was absolutely okay, unintentional, and forgivable - and made it difficult for him to ensure she was always able to take on the next mission forced on her. 

Umino Iruka had gotten one thing right about herself, though: she was a survivor. 

* * *

Iruka hated very few things in life. The Council was one, the Kyuubi was another, and hospitals were a definite third. The smell, the emotions, the blankness - everything seemed designed to set _her_ specifically on edge. She knew that other shinobi shared her intense dislike for the necessary evil (Hatake Kakashi himself was a splendid example), but _this_ time of _all_ times the chunin found herself dreading the visit. 

It was needful. She knew that. But, well - Iruka had just returned from a mission where she was violated in the most violent and cruel way a person could be (excluding mind-rape, which she planned to _never_ experience); there was _no way in hell_ she was was going to put herself at the mercy of someone barely more than a stranger just so that she could receive a treatment almost guaranteed to be as traumatizing as the initial offense. She would make an appointment in a day or two, just… Not right now. 

So Iruka ‘conveniently forgot’ where her doctor’s office was and ‘somehow’ ended up instead in the doorway of her own apartment. She inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily, forcing herself to release the tension in her body.

By the lack of noise and his chakra signature, Iruka could tell Naruto wasn’t there, most likely at his own apartment (or the Academy; what day was it, again?) 

She shuffled farther into the room, door swinging silently shut behind her. Slow, methodical movements removed her sandals and lined them up neatly by the door and hung her chunin vest on the provided hook. Iruka moved through her apartment in a daze. Everything was tidy and clean, kept that way by her friends when they had the time. The various plants were watered and green - Naruto’s doing, most likely - and it all felt… empty. 

There was no one else there, and gestures that should have been filled with caring and friendship were instead cold and habitual, carried out by rote while weighed down with dismay. After all, Iruka had been gone so much longer than usual. She glanced at the calendar that she knew would be marked to the present day by Naruto (he liked to estimate how long she would be gone); eight weeks, she counted, and beneath the numb despondency there was felt the sting of guilt. 

The journey from Honou no Machi to Konoha was a week for civilians and four days for shinobi. Iruka had traveled at a civilian pace, squandering the three extra days at various shrines along the way. She felt _dirty_ , but no attempts to scrub her skin and soul clean had decontaminated her. Now she was tired. 

But she couldn’t sleep. Every time she tried, Iruka was jerked awake by her own screams from the nightmares - the _memories_ she was reliving. This pattern continued even after she had made it home, and it was disrupting her life. 

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

“Ruka-sensei? Ruka-sensei, ya there?”

The chunin glanced at the door from where she sat curled up on the couch in her biggest, softest sweater just staring at nothing. Forcing a smile on her face she called, “You can come in, Naruto.”

He peeked around the edge of the door hesitantly, sky-blue eyes lingering on the lines of exhaustion on her face. “Ruka?” he asked, voice stuffed with concern. When she stretched her smile wider - a little more genuine this time, because this was _Naruto_ \- he kicked off his sandals and pattered to her, arms flying around her neck and his cute little face burrowing into her neck. “Missed ya, Ruka-sensei,” he mumbled into her skin, and warmth began to spread through her body. 

Her arms folded around him and held him close. “I missed you too, Naru-kun,” she murmured into wild, blond hair. “I missed you _a lot_.” 

Tears stung Iruka’s eyes, and her body began to shake with the stress and the pain and the fear of the last two months. “Ruka-sensei?” she thought she heard him ask worriedly, but blood was rushing in her ears, and tears were sliding down her cheeks, and all she could feel was the warmth this little boy had given her fighting the hold of the dark, aching pit inside. 

( - _the jagged edges of her soul ripping into her, tearing at her sanity like some savage beast, never a moment’s rest, always hungry - fractured, distorted like looking at her reflection in the shards of some broken mirror -_ )

“Ruka?”

There were the beginnings of fear in his little voice, and Iruka held him tighter. “ _I’m sorry_ ,” she sobbed, “ _I’m sorry._ Just - let me hold you like this for a while, please? It - It helps. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” 

That was how her brothers found them, Iruka holding Naruto and crying as she rocked back and forth on the couch. 

* * *

Hours later Naruto was asleep in Iruka’s bed, and Iruka herself was bundled up on the couch in a blanket, a mug of hot cocoa cradled in her hands; Izumo and Kotetsu sat on the love-seat across from her. 

“You don’t look so good,” Kotetsu intoned.

She shrugged and looked away. “I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in about a month.” 

Both of her friends stared at her in horror. 

“Ruka, that’s not _safe_! You could become seriously sick!” Kotetsu was suddenly running around her small kitchen like a crazy man, opening and closing cupboards in a sudden quest to ensure she had plenty of sick-foods. “Chicken noodle soup, different broths, cocoa…” he could be heard muttering. 

Izumo just rolled his eyes and turned back to her. “Ko-chi is right, though, Ru: you could make yourself very sick.” He frowned and leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. “You haven’t started running a fever, have you? Caught anything on your mission?”

Iruka flinched. _I probably should have made an appointment…_ After all, who knew what she might have picked up while - _while_ -

 _-rough fingers on her skin - alcohol on their breaths - fearfearfearfear - heart going th-thump th-thump th-thmp thmp thMP THmP TH_ **_MP_ ** _-_

“Ru!”

She was shaking uncontrollably, eyes wide and wild. Was she even breathing? She thought so, because that quick, scratchy sound had to have been her hyperventilating, because Zumo and Tetsu didn’t breathe like that.

Vaguely she registered hands taking her tea and two more hands gently guiding her head down between her knees. Two voices crooned unintelligible words, and several minutes later Iruka was breathing and thinking normally. 

“You alright, Ru?” Izumo asked gently, and she nodded shakily. 

“I - I think so.” 

Kotetsu, crouched on the ground at her feet, scooted forward, brow pinched with worry. “What was that, Ru? Was it - Was it something I said?” 

They were speaking softly, so softly, and they were making sure to stay calm so that her sensory abilities wouldn’t be overwhelmed. She sighed. Why did her friends have to be so damn _nice_ ? It made her feel so _dirty_ to sit next to them .

( - _filth - garbage -_ **_whor_ ** _-_ )

She shook her head. “No,” Iruka sighed. “I was just… reminded, that’s all.” 

Izumo’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced between Kotetsu and her. 

“I’m tired,” she said. “I think I’ll just go to bed.” 

Her friends offered no protest, but their worry was almost a tangible thing as she walked away. 

* * *

_-panting - begging - stop please stop - pain, so much pain - I’m bleeding?! - oh kami, please_ **_stop_ ** _-_

Iruka woke up screaming. 

Well, she was shinobi; in her village, surrounded by her friends, she didn’t scream. Instead she woke up with a scream caught in her throat, so she really woke up in a coughing fit as she choked on her own terror. 

“Ruka!” Familiar hands rubbed her back as she sat doubled over to heave, tears streaming unchecked down her face. The room spun and distorted, bulging and shrinking in patterns she could never hope to comprehend. Words were spoken, and one of the two other people - _worried, frightened, bordering on desperate_ \- left; the one remaining held her gently and kept her hair back from her face. 

It took an uncomfortable amount of time for Iruka to regain control of her breathing; still crying - and exhausted - she collapsed onto her side, one arm stretched above her and off the bed and her head pillowed on it. 

“You awake, Ruka?”

She sniffled and twitched her head in a nod.

Izumo sighed quietly. “Good.”

Silence blanketed them, soothed Iruka’s frazzled nerves - but she could sense his concern and his hesitant questions. What he _said_ though caught her off guard. 

“You should talk to Ko-chi.”

Iruka furrowed her brow and struggled into a sitting position; Izumo took the comforter at the foot of her bed and wrapped it around her so she could snuggle into it. 

At her questioning glance he explained, “I don’t _know_ what happened to you on your mission, Ru - but I _remember_ what Ko was like after the ANBU saved us.” His voice lowered to convey his seriousness. “I think you should talk to Kotetsu.”

She squirmed and dropped her eyes. “... I’ll… I’ll think about it,” she whispered.

And with any luck, she really would. 

* * *

There was a clearing hidden deep in the Shodaime’s forest within the walls of Konoha that the operatives known as Mole liked to meet at when they were off duty. It was a bit of a hike, and there was no trail, but the three of them had stumbled on the clearing a few months back; it was the perfect place to relax. 

Iruka knew that Shuugeki and Hamono were off duty; she had asked Ibiki when she bumped into him in the market the day before. She hadn’t contacted them to see if they’d be there, though, so when she arrived it was by herself. 

The clearing wasn’t anything particularly impressive. Nestled in amongst the tall, chakra-grown trees, the clearing looked like any other: there was soft grass, scattered wildflowers, squirrel and bird nests in the branches above, and even a small brook that burbled just out of sight.

(Hamono, Shuugeki, and Iruka had investigated the brook once out of curiosity. They found that its source was a crack in a small rock face not half a mile distant. When no other trace of the brook’s beginnings could be found, the three concluded that the water came from an underground spring or aquifer. The brook itself ran for no more than two miles before disappearing back into the ground never to emerge again.

Not that it really mattered; the water was clean and cool and perfect on hot summer days.)

Iruka settled cross-legged on the forest floor. It was… quiet there without the others. She sighed and flopped back, then rolled over onto her side to curl into a loose ball.

_Maybe I should have told them I’d be here…_

Her sensory abilities - only sensitive enough to pick up anything up to the creek some 30 feet away - pinged as two familiar chakra signatures entered her field of awareness. 

Shuugeki and Hamono dropped lightly out of the trees and approached her, their worry evident, and settled down cross-legged on either side of her. 

“... Sandaime-sama alerted Ibiki-san that you were coming here,” Hamono murmured. 

Shuugeki reached out to lightly play with the ends of her hair, but Iruka reactively flinched away before she could stop herself. “... Iru-chi? Iru-chi, what’s wrong?”

The chunin curled up tighter, one arm drifting up to hide her face. “ _Hn_ .” The grunt was soft, barely even a sound - but for all that, it was so very strained with her pent-up emotions. Tears threatened to expose her, and it was with much effort that she managed to repress them. She felt their concern deepen, and something about _knowing_ how honest and _not_ pitying their concern was loosened her lips. 

“... Have you… Have you ever done a h-honeypot mission?” 

Both young men froze. 

_“What_ ,” Hamono grit out, protective instinct flaring so hard and fast that it left the chunin gasping at the sudden pressure.

“Easy, easy,” Shuugeki soothed (though his own anger was tangible just beneath the surface of his cool facade).

Hamono audibly grit his teeth and reigned in his emotions. 

“You’re alright, Ru,” Shuugeki murmured down to her. “You’re safe here.” 

A tear escaped. “It - It was a - a sex trafficking ring,” she whispered, shame and memories flooding her until she was nearly overwhelmed. “B-Brothel girls were g-going missing, an’ I had t’ - t’ get myself kidnapped, too. I -” Iruka nearly choked, body curling impossibly tight; her tears were freely - though silently - falling now. “There were girls there, girls who couldn’ protect themselves from th’ men holding us hostage, so I - I took their place. Completed th’ mission but - but I -”

This time she was unable to even force herself to continue. 

The signatures of her partners - of only one year, yes, but _oh_ had they become her brothers in that time, shield-siblings forged in blood and sweat and tears - were distressed for _her_ . They were angry _for her_ , and that was something that she wasn’t quite used to yet. 

“ _I feel so dirty_ ,” she admitted. “I can’t _sleep_ , I can barely eat, and I look at Naruto and I think, ‘I would do that again for _him_ . I survive for my village, but for Naruto I would _break_ , I would _die_ , I would fall to pieces over and over and let myself get built back into whatever I’m needed to be - because _I won’t let him become what I am._ I won’t let him get torn apart by the wolf he adores like a lamb led to the slaughter. What - _What kind of mother would I be to him for that?_ ”

Iruka sobbed.

“What does that say about me,” she cried, angry and desperate and tired and ashamed, “that I would let myself be torn apart and put back together with cheap glue and cheaper words and hollow promises?!” 

Air rushed in and out of her greedy lungs, and it occurred in some distant portion of her functioning awareness that she had just ranted for an entire paragraph like some weak anime damsel. 

_No_. She would not be that weak.

With a snarl she shoved herself into an upright position and used the sleeve of her hoodie to clean her face. The brothers did not try to stop her, only watched her sadly. 

“The mission happened,” she said forcefully. “It happened, and there’s nothing I can do about that now. I’m ashamed, and sleep-deprived, and _angry_ , but I _won’t_ let that change _anything_ because I am a _shinobi_ , dammit, and _I will survive_. Period. End of story.”

She sniffed and stood, the brothers standing with her - but before she could storm out of the clearing she hesitated. “... Thank you,” Iruka murmured, “for coming.”

And then Shuugkei was embracing her and whispering _Always, Iruka, always_ and Hamono was cupping the back of her head. 

Iruka took a moment to bask in their warmth, in the safety they exuded - and then she extricated herself and walked back to her apartment. She had a life to get back to, after all. 

* * *

Of course, _actually_ getting back to that life was easier said than done. Iruka was still on mandatory leave, after all, so she wasn’t allowed to actually _do_ anything. That didn't stop her from swinging by the Mission Room to see if anyone would _let_ her do anything.

Much to her consternation, however, even the tokujou and jounin were well behaved when they saw her bedraggled appearance, many eyeing her with sympathy (and pity, but she ignored them; she was _19_ kami-dammit, and she didn’t need anyone’s pity). She was turned away at the door like some beggar. How… _irritating_. Couldn’t they see she was slowly losing her mind?! 

Iruka sighed and kicked at a stray rock in her path, enjoying the way it skipped over the muddy streets and plopped wetly into a puddle some dozen feet away.

It was currently raining in Konoha, a nice reprieve from the early summer heat. Iruka had decided to take advantage of the rain driving the throngs from the streets and take a walk - in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and an old flannel of Kotetsu’s. No shoes. 

She was splattered liberally in mud, but she didn’t mind, finding the presence of her element all around her rather soothing. Is this what her mother had felt like when it rained? Was it like this in Kiri where the water was _everywhere_? Or Nosaranzu, her mother’s place of birth? 

The chunin sighed and tilted her head back to the sky. What she wouldn’t give to be able to ask those questions and receive an _answer_ for once. 

“Iruka-kun?!”

Her movements were unhurried, the rain letting her know of the man’s presence long before he’d spoken. “Ohayo, Hayate-senpai. Enjoying the rain?”

He eyed her like she was a crazy person (at least _he_ was under an awning, thank you kindly!). “Shouldn’t I be asking you that same question?” 

She hummed and stopped in the middle of the puddle to turn to face him with a wan smile; water licked up above her ankles, and she wiggled her toes reflexively in the mud. 

“You look like a drowned kitten,” her kenjutsu teacher commented wryly.

Iruka supposed she did, especially with her hair loose and plastered to her skin. “Maa, there’s worse things I could look like,” she parried. “A drowned fish, for one - or Kotetsu, for another.”

Hayate laughed and offered a hand to welcome her out of the rain. “You’re certainly a strange one,” he allowed before coughing weakly. 

She accepted his hand and allowed herself to be pulled underneath the awning even as she frowned. “Better or worse in the rain?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Does it matter?” 

Iruka’s frown deepened, but she said no more (instead she focused just a little healing chakra into the water-dense air; if her friend didn’t cough a single time more in her presence that day, well, he never mentioned it). 

“... What brings you to wander?”

She sighed. “My last mission,” she admitted. Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “I’m on medical leave for two more weeks, ano…”

“... But you think that might not be long enough.”

“I think I don’t _want_ it to be long enough,'' she countered, ever honest with her teacher. “I so desperately want to be doing _something_ , but I _know_ that I’m not letting myself heal as it is. More than that, though…” Iruka trailed off, aware of how treasonous her next words could have sounded.

A slender, calloused hand gripped her shoulder - a silent encouragement to continue.

“I’m afraid of what mission I might be forced into next.”

Hayate knew almost nothing about Umino Iruka except that the chunin was a girl - necessary knowledge in order to better adapt to certain kenjutsu styles - and most definitely at odds with the village in regards to her personal welfare. His grip tightened briefly in comfort before slipping away. In absence of pointless platitudes he said, “Training on Thursday?”

Iruka allowed herself to smile gratefully as she glanced over to him. “Of course.” She slipped back out into the rain. “Sayonara, Hayate-san!” 

She ambled aimlessly through the village until the rains lightened to a drizzle, at which point she found herself passing in front of Mizuki’s apartment complex. Iruka hesitated. 

It had been… a while since she had seen him. Mizuki had been a lot more distant in recent months, always irritated and cranky no matter what she did, and there was always that slightly sexual attraction that he had to her that made her always uncomfortable. Especially now, after… 

Well. It didn’t bear thinking about, did it? She shook her head and began to go on her way - but a calloused hand gripped her above the elbow. 

“Iruka-chan! Where do you think you’re going in the rain like this? You’ll catch a cold!” 

She grimaced in discomfort but allowed Mizuki to pull her up against his body as if to share body heat as he led her up to his apartment. “Really, Zuki, I’m fine.”

“Nonsense,” he protested even as he handed her dry clothes and towel. “I’ll have some tea ready when you get out.” 

Iruka squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of having to wear her wet binder under dry clothes but did as she was told anyway. Mizuki was only looking after her, after all, even if he had a strange way of doing it sometimes. She was really just glad that he didn’t seem to be angry with her again. 

Once dressed in clean clothes - grey sweatpants (that were too big, obviously), a green sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks - Iruka finished toweling her hair and padded softly out to the kitchen where a cup of tea awaited her as promised. Mizuki wasn’t there, presumably changing into something drier himself. She sipped contentedly at the hot beverage while she waited. 

“So,” her friend announced when he walked back out dressed in only his _jeans_ . Honestly, what was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just wear _clothes_ instead of their bare skin? Who did Mizuki think he was going to impress? She was just _Iruka_ for kami’s sake! “What were you doing out in the rain?” His hair he had pulled back into a messy bun on the top of his head (really, he needed to trim it) to keep it out of his face as he sipped his own cup of tea. 

“Wandering,” she replied.

He snorted. “What’s that word you use? The one you made up?”

She sniffed in mock offense. “It’s a perfectly good word.” Iruka’s facade broke into a small grin. “Meamble.”

“That’s right. A mash of ‘meander’ and ‘amble’. Cute.”

And even though his sarcasm was obvious, and even though it stung her a little to be the object of that sarcasm, Iruka was just so happy that she was _home_ , that her oldest friend was _talking to her_ , that she just forgot the hurt and belittlement and decided to enjoy what time she had with him. “It means ‘to amble in a meandering way’ - or to wander lazily to a destination.”

Mizuki rolled his eyes, but this time there was a playful spark. “I don’t know who nominated you to teach at the Academy; they should have elected you to be in charge of the Linguistics and Translations department.”

Iruka kicked him somewhat-gently under the table causing him to sputter and curse even as he laughed; she smirked. Mizuki had been the one to talk to Sandaime about letting her teach, after all. She owed her sanity to her friend, even if he’d never know it. 

As their mirth died, Iruka found her mind wandering to the girls she had rescued. Were they okay? Did they have friends to keep them sane?

She set her half-finished tea down with a weary sigh. “Why must life be so difficult,” she murmured. “Why can’t people just do good things and treat others with kindness? Why do _we_ have to be the ones to clean up humanity’s mistakes?”

With her chakra still given a little free reign after the downpour earlier, Iruka was able to sense Mizuki’s concern. “... Iruka?”

Her eyes burned. “I’m sorry,” she sniffed, frantically trying to control her emotions. “My last mission was - it was so _hard,_ Zuki, and I saw such _awful_ things -”

“Hey, hey, you’re not there anymore,” he said almost sternly. It maybe wasn’t quite the comfort Iruka _wanted_ , but from Mizuki she would take what she could get. 

She nodded and forced herself under control. 

Once she was calm again, he said leaning back in his chair, “Why don’t we watch something, ne? Even with all this rain there’s gotta be something on.”

Iruka nodded once more and joined him on his dinghy couch. And even when they ended up watching what Mizuki wanted to watch the whole time, she refused to care. 

With Mizuki, she would take what she could get. 

* * *

Iruka’s nightmares got worse as the days passed. It was bad enough that Naruto was no longer sleeping in her apartment, electing instead to stay at his own during the night hours. Izumo and Kotetsu were frequently checking in on her - and Genma finally came to visit. 

“I’m sorry,” were the first words he said, “that I wasn’t here earlier. I got sent out on a mission two days after you came home.”

Not ‘came back’ - came _home_. Genma, whether he fully realized it or not, was establishing himself as a part of her ‘home’; he was right, of course, but that didn’t mean that Iruka had realized it in quite those words. 

She offered a weak smile, no strength left to put up a stronger mask. “It’s alright,” she murmured. “Please, come in.” Genma followed her to the kitchen where he sat on the counter as she busied herself making tea. “Raidou would have come by, too, but he’s been out since the day before you returned.”

“Three weeks?” she questioned. She knew both men were ANBU - ANBU usually received longer missions - but technically it was _Mole_ who knew that, not her (and they, of course, didn’t know _she_ was Mole).

He shrugged. “Some sort of reconnaissance mission up near the Land of Iron. Shinobi have to be extra careful up there, so anyone we send is given nearly twice the regular amount of time to accomplish it. He should be back within a week.”

Iruka nodded and handed him a steaming cup. She could feel his eyes on her, assessing. 

“You’re not doing too well.” 

A statement, not a question. 

“The mission.”

Against her will, the chunin stiffened - before slumping in defeat. Why would she hide from him? “Nightmares,” she agreed quietly. “Flashbacks. I hardly sleep, and anymore it’s too hard to even eat. I’m supposed to be back on duty in a week, but…” A slight hitch in her breath was the only sign of her pervasive panic and desperation. If she couldn’t present herself whole and hale to Ibiki, or at least on her way to recovery, then he would be forced to alert the Council. Iruka would not be given missions, she would be suspended from the Academy - and basically she would go broke, then go hungry, and then die. (Unless she went homeless somewhere in there, but between her apartment and her parent’s house she figured she’d be fine.) Her teacup was lowered gently to the table. “What will I do? I don’t - I don’t think I’ll make it this time, Gen. I really, really don’t.”

The small man - still bigger than her - came beside her, turned her to face him, and enveloped her in a warm, grounding embrace. “They really hurt ya, didn’t they,” he murmured sadly. “I didn’t - I’d hoped they wouldn’t have sent you on something _so_ dangerous. I’m so sorry, kitten.”

Tears trailed down her cheeks and onto his chest to leave little wet spots on his shirt. “You didn’t know,” she breathed. “It needed to be done.”

“At your expense?” His hold tightened, and for a moment Iruka could only see _them_ , feel fear, but then she inhaled the strange mix of ginger and second-hand tobacco that was Genma - that was a part of _home_. 

“ _What do I do_ ?” _How do I keep this from killing me?_

Genma pulled back just enough to look her seriously in the eyes for a long, long moment. “I think you talk to Kotetsu.”

* * *

They sat silently in her parents’ house, next to each other on the couch. 

There was daylight outside, if only the last lingering threads of it, the sun giving way to shadows and secrets. 

“Honeypot.” 

The first word of a tale - the first step of the journey. 

“Sex trafficking.” 

She didn’t know how to do this, how to talk about it without making it as blunt and simple as possible. Less words would give her less time to hurt, right?

Empathetic fingers brushed her thigh. She sighed. 

And then she spoke. She told him everything, everything that happened, every motive behind her actions, every thought and fear and atrocity committed. 

For hours she talked, never omitting a single detail, giving the tale in all its harsh, grotesque reality, until even the deepest folds of night had relinquished to the first stirrings of pre-dawn grey. There was… no turning back.

And when she was finished, face wet and body wracked with a small, constant tremble, she held herself very, very still.

( _“Sometimes,” her mother had said, “if you listen hard enough, my little Mizunosei, then you can hear the life of the one next to you - even read their thoughts. There is an openness to the ocean that other water does not have, and you are of the ocean. If nothing else, remember that it loves in you, floods through your veins - remember that it_ **_is_ ** _you, and_ **_use_ ** _it._ )

She heard his horror - and his empathy. His vicarious anger - and his concern. His acceptance of _her_ , of how she felt and had acted. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted in shame, unable to look him in the eye. “I don’t - I don’t know how to heal, or how to come back from this, or - or how to _live with myself_ -” Her voice broke.

He leaned over and wrapped her in his arms, and she collapsed against him as her body shook with silent sobs. 

They stayed in that position for an unknown amount of time. 

“Something I learned,” Kotetsu murmured in her ear, “is that it’s okay to _not_ be okay.” He pulled back and cradled Iruka’s face in his hands and held her fractured gaze with his own gentle one. “I wanted to be okay right away. I pushed myself past my limits and tried to hide how much I was still hurting - and how much I was hurting myself. I felt dirty, I was ashamed, and I didn’t want to spread the darkness I felt to you or Izumo or anyone else. But… But Sandaime found me in front of the Name Stone, and he talked to me. He told me about his wife, Biwako-san, who created the Seduction Corps. Did you know that Biwako-san only did that so men and women could be trained? So that they were less likely to be hurt like she had been?”

Iruka shook her head slightly. 

Kotetsu nodded. “Biwako-san had been raped when she was younger. She was smart, too smart, and she was able to use it to her advantage and complete the mission, but when she came back to Sandaime, she was broken, too. She didn’t want shinobi to be broken like that.” He sucked in a slightly shaky breath and released her face, hands slipping down to hold hers instead, his eyes following. “Sandaime had me meet with Biwako-san’s last remaining teammate: a man called Oboe. Oboe-senpai was the first man in YUDAN, and even though he’s retired, he still oversees much of the training at their headquarters. We talked for… a _long_ time.”

There was silence as Kotetsu remembered and brought himself back to the present. He met her eyes once more. 

“Oboe-senpai taught me that I should not feel ashamed for what happened or about myself. ‘Guilt,’ he said, ‘is what you should feel when you’ve _done_ something bad, but _shame_ is what you feel when you believe _you_ are bad. _You are not bad_ ,’ he told me, ‘for what happened to you. You did not have control, and it was not your fault.’” 

His grip tightened as he said with conviction, “Iruka, you’re not okay, and _that’s okay_ . It wasn’t your fault, even if you _are_ the one who chose to protect those girls. You should not feel ashamed because _you’re not bad_ . You didn’t rape yourself, and you didn’t help those bastards rape anyone else, either; you shouldn’t feel _guilty_ because you _saved_ people. You’ve been suffering on your own, but I _promise_ you that you won’t be tainting us with any sort of darkness just by asking for help; you don’t _have_ any darkness, Ruka. Izumo, Naruto, Genma, Ridou, and I - we’re all here for you. We _want_ to help you. And even if you still think that you’re dirty, or - or - or _ruined_ , _it doesn’t matter_ . We - all of us - we’re willing to take some of that filthiness from you if it means seeing you healthy and happy again, Ru, and we’re _more_ than willing to help you piece yourself together again. We _love_ you.” 

As he had talked, Iruka had felt swells of emotion crashing against her defenses until she was left staring wide-eyed and crying at her brother. The shame… it was gone. And so was the guilt. For now, at least, but they were gone. There was still doubt lingering near the shards of her soul, but Kotetsu had already glued so many pieces of her back into the shape of _Iruka_ . She wasn’t… _alone_ . She was _relieved_ . Relieved that they didn’t blame her, relieved that she wouldn’t be carrying this burden on her own anymore, relieved that she didn’t have to be perfectly fine _right now_. She was… 

Iruka felt _free_. 

She fell forward and embraced her friend, putting as much of her gratitude and love as she could into the embrace - and he returned it. Warmth and - and all the positive emotions she couldn’t begin to name filled her up inside and made her feel as if she was _glowing_. 

Iruka was crying again, but these weren’t tears of guilt or shame or sadness; these were tears of relief and release, of hope and awe and joy and all those other good things she treasured. Those tears were _Naruto_ , and _Izumo_ , and _Genma,_ and _Raidou_ and her _parents_ and _Kotetsu_ \- and those tears were _Iruka_ because, for once, Iruka was breaking free.

And, more than ever, she _knew_ that she would survive.

* * *

**OMAKE**

The Missions Room was utter _chaos_ . Like, it _usually_ was, what with jounin being crazy and the chunin left to pick up the pieces, but - 

Iruka had _just_ recovered from the Capital. She had _just_ managed to strike a balance between her lingering trauma and what used to be _normal_ , but she was left tired, and frayed, and fractured along the fault lines of her soul and she - she _snapped_. 

It was loud. It was loud, and there were 30 jounin (at least 10 of them _elite_ jounin) crammed inside harassing the desk chunin while the other chunin - and even some genin - waited tensely to turn in their own reports or take new missions. 

She smiled with all of the dishonest serenity her training had taught her as the next jounin stepped up. Iruka accepted the report - and froze when she realized just _who_ was standing before her. 

Hatake Ka- _freaking_ -kashi eye-smiled innocently and offered a wave. “How goes it, chunin-san?” Her answering smile was just a tad strained as she unrolled the scroll and hesitantly laid eyes on the - the _report_ (three lines, stained paper, _doodles of Sandaime and his teammates_ oh kami).

And that. Was. The. Last. _Straw_. 

His report was neatly re-rolled and handed back with what she hoped was a benign smile. “Your village thanks you for your service, _jounin-san_ ,” Oh, boy, her voice was _not_ benign, repeat, _not benign_ \- “but it will thank you _a lot more_ \- by _paying_ you, for example - once this has been re-written according to the specifications under the 31st bullet of the Shinobi Code: All reports are to be submitted with legible and relevant writing - pending previous allowances decided on a shinobi-to-shinobi basis supported with proof in the form of a notation in the relevant shinobi’s file made by the Hokage themself and ratified by the shinobi’s two successive superiors - to the Mission Desk Worker on duty.”

Hatake had the _gall_ to look sheepish _and had still not taken his report back_. 

Grating on the edge of her sensitive awareness, Iruka was aware of a small scuffle breaking out in the center of the room, a small gaggle of jounin surrounding Shenzo-chan - another desk chunin who _had_ been making her way to the back room to file reports - and intimidating her for _fun_ , Asuma and Kurenai standing suspiciously close against one wall while the former smoked a cigarette (in a _no smoking zone_ ) and -

No. She was done. Every single one of the other chunin were being cowed and belittled, and the people who were _supposed_ to be _keeping that kind of stuff from happening_ were the ones _instigating it_ . And the _reports_ , oh kami, were not even _legible_.

The anger piqued and _moved_ from its previous rumbling simmer to a roaring boil, and she lowered the scroll carefully to her desk. Then, with carefully controlled movements, she rose to her feet, fingers splayed on the desk to support the weight of her rage. “Jounin-sans,” she called in a voice that was not loud but _carried_ , and the room gave a collective shiver. “I believe that there has been a mistake,” she continued; the water in her cup began to ripple as her control over her kekkei genkai slipped, and the air seemed to be sucked dry as miniscule beads of moisture hung suspended everywhere.

“This Missions Room is for the collection and distribution of missions to able shinobi of this fine village. It is _not_ -” Iruka’s eyes snapped open to glare promises of _death_ even as her chakra - yin - drew the shadows up around her in a sort of shroud that made her seem like the second coming of Shinigami himself, “a _daycare_ . _Competent_ shinobi,” she spat, “have been trained to write in a readable manner so that the information they bring back for their village can be used to _save lives_ . Failure to write in a legible manner _has_ and _will_ result in the deaths of comrades. 

“Furthermore, it is the smooth, uninhibited functions of the Missions Room and its dedicated, loyal workers that has and will _continue_ to ensure the stability of the occupations of _all_ of Konohagure’s shinobi. Without this room and its workers, you would be sent on missions above or below your abilities. Without this room and its workers, you would not be _paid_ . _Without this room and its workers_ , the stable structure of our village _would not exist_.” 

The droplets of moisture roiled and hardened into impossible sharp points that cut any of the jounin who brushed against them; the room was still. 

“So, _please_ ,” Iruka snarled, “ _continue_ what you’re doing. _Keep_ harassing us _poor, defenseless chunin_ and just _see_ where that sort of disaster will take you. However.” Everyone shivered - even though Iruka now forced herself to relax and straighten, shroud withdrawn and the water dissipated back to its vaporous state, frigid smile plastered across her features. “If you would like to continue serving this village, please submit your reports in accordance with the guidelines set in place for the safety of our shinobi and in a calm, respectful, orderly fashion. Thank you.”

She now sat down, her smile transfixed but calm (and all the more terrifying for it), and once again offered Kakashi’s report back to him. “Thank you for your service, jounin-san,” she said sweetly. 

He took the report, expression blank, and walked silently out of the room. After a few moments the other jounin and tokujou either shuffled into straight lines or sat at the couple of extra tables to rewrite their reports. 

For a solid week after that, all reports were handed in neat and on time. 

And Iruka became the first chunin known to actually _intimidate_ her unruly superiors into quick obedience. 

She smirked behind the cover of her coffee mug. Being a teacher sure came in handy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Where to begin. Ah! Yes, telosphilos. This isn't really a major thing, but just so you guys know, telos and I are both really busy university students (not at the same university tho, lol), so for the next little while especially updates won't be very regular if regular at all. Now that I'm working with someone who has their own schedule to maintain, even after classes end, updates will probably not be as nice and neat as I tried to keep them before (i.e. every other Thursday). So, just FYI. 
> 
> Basic things about this chapter: The capital city. I couldn't find a name? So I named it Hanou no Machi because I think I'm funny, basically. For those of us NOT fluent Japanese speakers, it means 'City in Flames'. See what I did there? Because it's a city in Fire Country? lol XD There's also the YUDAN, which, like I&I, I totally invented. I thought it made sense though that the Seduction Corps would be a lot like ANBU in structure. If you have questions about it, let me know :) 
> 
> One thing telosphilos pointed out to me while reading through this was that it wasn't made very clear why Ibiki wasn't able to proved the... geez, there's not really a polite way to put this, is there? - the sex training, basically, that Iruka needed. I kind of talk about that when I mention the YUDAN. Essentially if you're sent on a honeypot mission of any kind, then you are required to receive official training from the YUDAN in order to help you be safe, stay safe, and cope with the mission afterwards.' Yes, hiding the Moles is exactly why Ibiki wouldn't be able to give her the training he otherwise should have. Neglecting something so important is a gross oversight - but that sort of training has to be documented with and overseen by the Seduction Corps so that the trainee can be taught in a safe, controlled environment by professionals. That sort of documentation would, by necessity, have to include either the ANBU designation or the actual name of the trainee. Since 'Mole' can't have any documentation proving their existence, the name would have to be Iruka's, but, because the Council is a groups of jerks, if Iruka were given that type of training, then she would be forced to go on those kinds of missions all the time without any say. So, yes, Ibiki was protecting not just her ANBU identity but also Iruka.' This is the response I gave to their question, so I hope this clears that up. 
> 
> Another concern they brought up was that Kotetsu doesn't have the clearance to hear the details of the mission. I haven't figured out a way to specifically address that issue yet, but I'll have it - hopefully - taken care of in the next chapter. Or as an omake. You know what? I'll just explain it, and then if I want to write the scene I will: because it's the only way Ibiki knows that Iruka will be able to talk about her experience while still feeling safe and in control, he basically pulled Kotetsu aside after Iruka returned and told him that, as long as he never spread details of the mission around (like, why would he?), Ibiki would turn a blind eye to whatever Iruka chose to tell Kotetsu. Yep. I kinda just cheated my way out of that one. 
> 
> I want to say something about the Omake, but I won't b/c I'm amused by what I know that I know you DON'T know lol. Ah, to be the author. (Or someone who has read the alternate version on FFNet. But, whatever. I hope you guys enjoyed this.)
> 
> One final thing that I kinda feel like I should say. The final section, specifically the talk that Kotetsu gives Iruka, is something that I have, unfortunately, been on the receiving end of. Not specifically, and not necessarily all at the same time, but the parts about guilt vs shame, my friends loving me and being there for me, and it not being my fault are all things that were said to me. My experience wasn't nearly so bad as Iruka's, but I really just wanted you guys to know that I'm not actually just pulling such a sensitive issue out of a hat. This section meant a lot to me, personally, and I hope that any of you who has experienced anything remotely similar can read this and take some measure of comfort in it.
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and never stop loving yourself :)


	10. Fanart!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol. I got it to work XD 
> 
> Anyway, this is just the scene where Iruka and Mizuki are watching TV. I'm too lazy to draw the couch, so there's lines. Also, I forgot the fuzzy socks. Dangit. Oh well.
> 
> In the future any art I have for this fic will show up where it actually belongs in the chapter, not as a separate chapter by itself. 
> 
> I have been messing with resolution a bit in Clip Studio, so I think this one will turn out a little blurry on big screens, sorry :/ In the future I'll fix that.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my Corner of Ramblings :) This is obviously Iruka-centric, but we'll see a bunch of other characters (I added as many as I thought relevant in the tags; Kakashi and Naruto just happen to be the most important to Iruka, at least later on). Like I mentioned in the summary, all warnings will be posted in the beginning notes of each chapter just so that I don't miss anything and you guys aren't blindsided by anything. I will warn you that, so far, of the story I have written, there will be trigger warnings for: mentions of rape and torture, mild language, depression, mild alcoholism, and slavery. Sort of on the last one. It will make more sense as you read. But I'll have specific warnings for each chapter as they come, so no worries. This fic does deal with the darker side to shinobi politics, so be forewarned.
> 
> More on the story itself: I'm not really into yaoi, but I love the KakaIru pairing. Sadly there isn't a whole lot of fem!Iruka fics out there (I'll suggest my favorites if you guys want), so I decided to go ahead and write my own. This is totally inspired by Swiss Army Knife's version of Iruka (they don't have a specific universe, but /Strangely Together, Uniquely Apart/ is a good place to start), so go check out their fics; they're absolutely amazing. If you have or will read those fics, you will recognize a bunch of stuff, but don't worry: I already got permission to use Swiss's ideas. I have plans for a bunch of branch-offs - mostly one-shots - from this fic, so be prepared for those in the future, too. This fic is also influenced by WhyMustIWrite and their /Not Over Till the Paperwork is Done/ universe. Both are on FFNet, but feel free to check them out.
> 
> Oh! Please like, follow, and/or review as you see fit. Reviews help me keep this fic going and provide me with inspiration, so please don't hesitate to leave a comment. Thank you so much! :D


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